THE HERBALIST (Books 1-5)

by Leslie Leigh

  “Yes, that’s right,” she said, offering no further explanation. The man looked like he wanted to ask something else, but he didn’t. They just returned to the truck to start unloading.

  Brian had asked her not to say anything. He was afraid that the company would try to reclaim Janet’s hot tub. He was kind of getting a kick out of the whole thing.

  The man came to the door again. “The order is for complete setup of the tub, including heating.”

  “That’s right. I’m on my way to work now. I’m right up the street at the market if you need anything,” she said, pointing in the direction of the store.

  “Can you leave us a phone number?”

  “Sure,” she said, giving them her cell number.

  “It’ll be ready when you get home,” the man called after her.

  Melissa turned and waved, indicating she had heard him. I hope he’s right, this time, she thought.

  Getting back into the groove at the market was good, but her head was in a different place now. Now, she was thinking about how her role would change to that of just owner, and often, remote owner. She would still have primary oversight, of course, and be able to be on-site whenever she wanted, but she wouldn’t get in Flora’s way, either. She knew she was putting it into very capable hands.

  Vivian had been promoted to floor manager, Dale got a raise as baker’s helper, and Kim was taking over more of the innovative stuff in the baking department. She and Flora had collaborated on learning how to do macarons, and, believe it or not, the festively-colored delicacies were beginning to outstrip the Chelsea Bun sales. It seemed that Melissa was getting her bakery after all.

  Brian was coming home in two days, and there would be a lot to talk about and plan for.

  As Flora was about to leave that afternoon, having come in early to help with the macarons, Melissa stopped her. “You know I have you to thank for all of this,” she said.

  Flora blushed and fidgeted.

  “I was mad as hell at you that day, but if you had said it any other way, it likely wouldn’t have had the same impact, and I would still be at an impasse.”

  “I know. It was rude and unconscionable. I know you forgive me because I was really stressed out about Clay. But I am glad that some part of it helped you.”

  “I’m also glad that you are taking a bigger interest in the nutrition and alternative medicine side of things. I would be very happy to pay for any courses you wanted to take in that regard. I believe my alma mater has online courses.”

  “Why, thank you. That’s very generous of you. Truthfully, though, how does it feel to know you won’t be so involved with your chosen profession and your little hand-built market?”

  “The weird thing is that I thought the market would be the hardest thing to let go of, and it was actually the easiest. The tough part was not being able to practice my alternative medicine and healing, but I may yet find a way to do that. The thing is, once I finally made a decision, I’m really looking forward to the adventure of being Mrs. Brian Byrne—and wherever that takes us. Knowing the two of us, I’m sure we will come up with something compatible for both of us.”

  That evening when she got home, she walked around back, not knowing what to expect. She was very pleased at the placement of it because it didn’t detract in any way from her beautiful gardens. It was bubbling and stirring and looked very inviting.

  After feeding Sweet Pea and grabbing a bite herself, she got undressed, put on a robe, grabbed a towel, and went out. Ha ha! Her luck could not have been better. Not only had they positioned it away from her gardens, but they had also fortuitously placed it at such an angle that the tree completely blocked out the streetlight from the next street over. She was sure that was quite accidental, but she was grateful for it anyway. She climbed in, anchoring herself onto one of the seats and lying back on the headrest. She could feel the tension of the past weeks draining away moment-by-moment.

  Chapter 16

  Melissa reflected back on what she had told Walsh’s lawyer when he asked who she was, I’m an expert in poisons and poisoning methodology. She thought about educating herself more in that vein. On one hand, it seemed ludicrous. She had read the statistics, poisoning as a method of murder had dropped phenomenally since the advent of forensics, and it was so easily detected.

  Yet, she also thought about how things were missed: the oleander not showing up until they did a specific assay, and the forensics man at the sheriff’s department thinking it wasn’t necessary to test the wine. Yes, it would be worth it. She realized how differently she felt about her sleuthing now than she had when Jim James had been murdered. After helping solve no fewer than seven murders via her expertise, she could honestly feel that it was simply a different way of helping people. In a way, she was a speaker for the dead; she could bring closure for family members and help to bring justice to those deserving justice.

  As she was thinking about all of this, her phone rang. She picked it up and saw that it was Brian. “Hey,” she said, “I’m glad to hear your voice.”

  “I hope you still will be when I’ve told you why I’m calling,” he said. “I have bad news and I have good news—well, I hope it’s good news.”

  She laughed. “Okay, let’s hear the bad news first.”

  “I’m not coming home right away.”

  “Ohhhhhhh,” she said, heartily disappointed. “Okay, then, let’s hear the good news.”

  “I need to fly you out here to Coeur d’Alene to help me.”

  “What? Why? Or should I say, how?”

  “Well, in working on Dunnick’s case, we’ve found a cold case of a string of poisonings that are completely unrelated to Dunnick. We need your expertise.”

  Her mind immediately protested. Her first thought was that she couldn’t because of the market, and her second was why on earth they would need her with forensics experts around. But she guessed she had answered the latter question just before he called, and she had no argument now about the market.

  “If you feel my expertise can be of benefit, I’m all yours.”

  He laughed. “Oh, yes, you are all mine. How soon can you leave?”

  “How soon can you get me there?”

  “There’s a flight out tomorrow—at 6 am.”

  “Six!?! Brian, you do remember that I’m an hour from the airport, and we’re supposed to be there two hours early?”

  “I remember.” He wasn’t giving an inch.

  What the heck? She would just call Flora, pack a bag, and set her alarm. Oh, and she’d have to call Kim to watch Sweet Pea again. “I’ll be there,” she said.

  “Good. Sadly, it’s about nine hours with layovers. I managed to avoid Denver, but you’re going to fly into LAX, then into SeaTac, and then by small jet to Coeur d’Alene. By the way, have you ever been here?”

  “No. Well, it’s a real winter wonderland. Bring the warmest things you have, and we’ll go shopping when you get here.”

  “I’ll just pack one of the roller bags coming, then. We can sort out the luggage situation on our way back. Oh, and do you want to give me any details now so I can be thinking about it?”

  “I think it’s better if you get it all fresh when you get here. There are some odd bits and pieces to be put together.”

  “Alright then.”

  “Okay, sweetheart. I’ll pick you up at the baggage claim at three thirty. Thanks for doing this.”

  When the call disconnected, she felt a frisson of excitement go through her. It gave her more confidence, too, knowing that Brian felt her expertise was great enough to help out in a federal case.

  It would be frosty when she left Catalonia at three in the morning, so she’d have to be really careful on the Santa Rita Highway. She thought about going through Nogales and up I-19, but that would take so much longer; she’d probably have to leave at two or two thirty. But maybe she’d leave then anyway in case she had to go slow in the Santa Ritas. She needed her head to stop babbling now so she could get stuff done.<
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  # # #

  She dozed as much as she could on the plane because she wanted to be alert when Brian picked her up. The final approach into Coeur d’Alene seemed to take forever—she hadn’t realized just how excited she would be to see him. He had been gone for nearly a month this time.

  She saw him leaning against a column near the baggage pick up. He was watching for her and leapt forward to greet her, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her. “My bride-to-be,” he said. Those were strange words to hear, and she liked it very much.

  “It’s snowing,” he said, “lightly, but enough to get you wet. What did you bring?”

  “I have a heavy sweater and a pair of wool slacks, but no appropriate footwear.”

  “Let’s find somewhere that you can change. I brought you an extra jacket, and you’ll just have to let me hold you up until we can get you a pair of boots.”

  She looked at him, and he had that boyish grin of his. He hugged her again, and then they made their way to a family bathroom where she changed quickly and donned the pea coat he had brought for her.

  “The rental car I have has a good heater. The most important thing is to get your feet dry as soon as we can.”

  It wasn’t as bad as he had anticipated. The airport grounds maintenance people were keeping up with the snow as it fell, and the walks and parking lot were pretty clear.

  She glanced at him in the dome light as they got into the car—she always loved his dark auburn hair, cleft chin, and Kennedy-esque looks. Looking at him now sent another frisson of excitement through her.

  He took her out for dinner at a Japanese place close to his hotel, so they didn’t have far to drive. They spent the meal in small talk, catching up on the smaller details they hadn’t shared by phone. He kept looking at her as though he were seeing her for the very first time. She hoped they would always be able to keep things fresh and electric between them.

  She was pleased when they got to the hotel. The government had spared no expense for him, which surprised her. The suite had separate rooms, including a small kitchen. The living room was cozy with comfortable furniture, soft lighting, and a gas fireplace.

  “So, what can you tell me now?” she asked.

  “Aren’t you tired?”

  “It’s only six, Brian,” she said, but she yawned as soon as the words were out of her mouth. “I suppose it has been a long day. I only slept from nine to midnight.”

  “Good grief,” he said. “Yes, I’d say you should at least take a nap now. We’ll have plenty of time to talk about the case.”

  “Okay, then,” she said. She went into the bedroom and donned her yoga pants and t-shirt and lay down on the bed. She saw his silhouette as he came into the darkened room. She was so happy to be here with him.

  “I didn’t want you to be afraid of the dark,” he said. “I can’t turn the light on, or you won’t sleep. I don’t have a nightlight, so the only thing I know to do is to lay down with you.”

  She laughed and kissed him. They spooned together, and soon she was fast asleep.

  # # #

  Brian introduced her to Detectives Haas and Johnson, and the Sheriff of Kootenai County. He must have said a lot of flattering things about her because the men acted as though they were in the presence of some national expert in poison forensics, rolling out the red carpet for her.

  Brian had arranged a briefing for her, to which they proceeded shortly after arriving. The coffee was surprisingly good, thanks mostly to a shiny new commercial coffee maker with all the bells and whistles. This was the first time she had ever seen a sheriff’s department with its own café cart, but Brian assured her it was a quite a thing in the Northwest.

  The sheriff bowed out after greeting Melissa, leaving just her and Brian and the two detectives. “This case is kind of personal for me,” the older detective said. “I grew up with the story, but not until I was an officer did I realize that it was more than a story and that there were actually case files on it. I will admit right now that you are doing me a personal favor on this one. This is not an official investigation, but if you are somehow able to solve it, its disposition will be handled like any other cold case.”

  Melissa gave Brian a quizzical look, but he kept his eyes on the detective.

  “I’m not even going to tell you the story first,” he said. “I have all the prejudices about it that I grew up with, and I don’t want to taint your perspective. If you need to hear my story at some point after you’ve looked at the initial facts, just ask. Now, what can we offer you to make this a reality?”

  “You’re not even going to give me a hint?”

  “No. There are so many angles and once you get on one, it’s hard to get off of it to look at another one. Brian here tells me that your ability to see the big picture and to put pieces together and intuit the whole is absolutely amazing. Those of us who grew up around here are far too familiar with it to be able to see what’s between the lines anymore.”

  “Well, okay, then. You say you have case files, so give me the case files in order by ascending date, a laptop that’s connected to the Internet, and a quiet room.”

  “Done,” Detective Haas said. They escorted her to a small, high-ceilinged room with a table, chairs, a laptop, and a mile-high pile of case files. The room had high windows around the entire top of the room, reminding her of a surgical galley.

  She laughed nervously. “Why do I feel like I’m under observation and being put to the test,” she asked.

  “Because you are?” Detective Johnson said, smiling.

  She looked at Brian who simply smiled, too.

  “Seriously, though,” Haas said. “Anything at all new that you can wrest from this will be greatly appreciated.”

  She furrowed her brow. “How will I know whether or not I’m reinventing the wheel if you don’t tell me anything, first?”

  “Let me rephrase then. Anything at all that you can wrest from this will be greatly appreciated. This has stumped the best detectives who have looked at it for a number of years now.”

  “No pressure, though, right?” Melissa asked, laughing.

  “No pressure,” Haas said, smiling.

  Brian sat down in a chair opposite her, and she picked up the first case file. August 14, 1828. 1828? “Do you know anything about this Brian?”

  He stood and patted her on the shoulder. “Only that I’m betting you can solve it before the afternoon is out,” he said.

  “What? Something scores of detectives have looked at for nearly eighty years, and you think I can solve it in an afternoon.”

  “Yes. Because I think they’ve been unable to see the forest for the trees, but it’s your kind of forest, my dear. Enjoy,” he said. “If you need more coffee or anything, just ring. I’ll bring you whatever you want.”

  “Why can’t you stay with me?” she asked.

  “I have my own work to do, and we’re on the verge of cracking some important stuff right now that I’ll tell you about later.” He bent, kissed her, and was gone.

  She counted the files. Fifteen in all. It really wasn’t that many in the larger scheme of things. And what better did she have to do. This could be fun, after all.

  She began to immerse herself in the story. Before delving into great detail, she read the cover sheet and report on each one. It appeared that the cover sheets had been created much later than the original files, but perhaps that wasn’t all that unusual when dealing with such old cases.

  What she was reading was of a town, a region, gone berserk. After reading the first half dozen files, she felt like she was reading about the same type of hysteria that swept across Europe at one point and that had seized Salem, Massachusetts. There weren’t accusations of witchcraft or involvement with the devil, but it was a kind of mass hallucination. People had died because of it. Brian had recommended her upon reading some of the cases because it smacked to him of some kind of hallucinogen involvement, as well.

  The first case was actually just a file kept b
y the circuit judge of some incidents of strange behavior, both public and private from some of the locals. He had examined each of them in the court and found them to be, in his own words, “quite mad.” But, he also commented that the behavior in each of them was similar yet there was “no apparent collusion or prevarication” nor did they fall along “familial lines.” So, it was doubtful that it was anything caused by inbreeding.

  Several isolated incidents early on were of people with spontaneous seizures, but it seemed if they recovered from the seizures, then they would begin to show ugly spots on the skin, and then would begin to exhibit strange neurological behavior. It turned out that the first couple of files were similar reports, only the second one was about harm coming from a couple of the deranged citizens—mostly property damage and one case of domestic assault.

  It was early in 1829 when things became ultra-bizarre and deadly. It began at the first spring thaw—when people were milling about the town again. Just after sundown but before full dark, a group of men saw a strange man ride into town. “He sat tall in the saddle and was dressed as if he had just left the finest clothing store in Spokane. He had a grim countenance and some say his eyes were lit like burning coals.” Every man in the group gave the same description. One could think that they had somehow agreed on their description except that a couple of other people in the town remarked on seeing the man from their windows, and one of those spoke of glowing eyes, as well.

  The women of the town became morose and depressed. Things escalated when one of them reported seeing the grim man and the next morning she was found dead at her hearth. This was followed by a dozen more deaths over the next few weeks, thirteen women and five men in all.

  After she finished reading all of the files, Melissa sat back to think. The bigger picture was of the spreading depression. But what of the grim man?

  Melissa turned to the laptop and began to look for matching symptoms: convulsions, depression, possibly hallucinations. Many maladies came up with those symptoms but none that seemed to fit the situation.