A Taste of Death (Maggie Olenski Series)

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A Taste of Death (Maggie Olenski Series) Page 7

by Hughes, Mary Ellen


  Elizabeth stared at Maggie for what seemed like a long time. Finally she put her mug of tea down and said, "What should I do?"

  Maggie took a deep breath. Good. "First, call Paul Dekens and tell him he can get you that lawyer." When Elizabeth started to protest Maggie held up her hand to stop her. "I know you're innocent, but that's all the more reason to have a lawyer. If the District Attorney starts putting together a case against you, you've got to have someone on your side."

  "But I can't let Paul go to that expense. He needs every penny to keep Big Bear afloat."

  "Let him do it. Maybe you can pay him back later. We'll worry about money later." To herself, Maggie thought that if Paul was innocent himself, he would be doing it out of love and wouldn't mind the expense. If he was guilty and just playing Mr. Nice Guy, well, then the more it cost him the better. Maggie would check out the lawyer herself, to make sure he was competent.

  "Next," she continued, "think very hard and tell me if there is anyone who you think would set you up like this."

  Elizabeth looked down at the floor, and Maggie saw her pale face take on tinges of red. She looked back at Maggie.

  "I can't really imagine anyone doing that. But then I couldn't imagine anyone murdering Jack, and someone did. If I had to guess as to who would want to hurt me, it would have to be Leslie, Jack's wife."

  Elizabeth's eyes had filled with tears at this, and Maggie knew they were not tears of anger but sorrowful tears of regret. She could almost read what was going through Elizabeth's mind. Apparently Dyna could too, for she grabbed one of Elizabeth's hands.

  "Hey," Dyna said, "I know you probably feel rotten over the affair, but don't go thinking you deserve the chair for it. Someone else killed Jack, not you, and someone else is going to pay for it. Got that?"

  Elizabeth wiped her eyes. She pulled a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. Then she smiled up at Dyna. "Got it."

  <><><>

  Back in the car Dyna looked over at Maggie. "Do you think she'll be all right?"

  "She's coming around. Tomorrow we can take over some groceries - her cupboard looked pretty bare. Then maybe we can talk her into reopening the book shop. She needs to stay busy." And I need to add a few more pages on my book, Maggie thought. She hoped she could squeeze in a couple of hours of work later on that night. But for the moment she would concentrate on the murder.

  "Where to now?" Dyna asked, as Maggie turned on the ignition.

  "Where else," Maggie said, "but to see the one person Elizabeth could bring herself to suspect. Mrs. Jack Warwick."

  CHAPTER 8

  Maggie pulled up to the large, Federal style house.

  "Is this it?" she asked Dyna.

  "I'm pretty sure it is. I remember Annette telling me at the town meeting that the Warwick's had rented the old Kirby place, the best house in town that was available."

  Maggie stepped out of her car and looked at it thoughtfully, taking in the character and gentility the home exuded and wondering just how well Jack Warwick had fit into it. She climbed the few steps with Dyna to knock at the door.

  Leslie Warwick answered it herself, looking surprised but pleased to see them. She was dressed in form-fitting pants topped with a bright green silk shirt, which set off her tawny hair beautifully. Not exactly mourning clothes, Maggie thought, but then decided that any outfit Leslie wore would have a hard time looking funereal, especially with that amazing hair.

  "How wonderful to see y'all," Leslie said, stepping back to welcome them in. "Don't worry about your boots, just come on in. It seems like ages since I've been able to really talk to anyone. Mrs. Hanson!" Leslie shouted, causing Dyna, who stood closest to her, to jump.

  A grey-haired woman in a navy dress, who must have been Leslie's housekeeper, bustled into the foyer and took their things. Worry lines creased her face, but she smiled pleasanty when Maggie handed her her jacket with thanks.

  "Come in, come in," Leslie sang cheerily, her voice lilting in the southern accent Maggie had forgotten about, and led them into a formal living room decorated mainly in white, with a touch of icy blue. "Let's get comfy. What can I get y'all to drink?"

  Maggie noticed for the first time that Leslie had a glass in her hand, partly filled with ice cubes and a dark amber liquid. Iced tea? Maggie hoped it was, considering the time of day, but Leslie's manner seemed livelier than simple tea would induce. Maggie also remembered this woman's unsteadiness at the town meeting.

  Leslie stood at a portable bar, waiting for their answers. "Pepsi is fine for me," Maggie said.

  "If you have mineral water I'd like that please," said Dyna.

  Leslie wrinkled her nose but smiled and rooted around to find the items. "This cart reminds me of my days with the airline, pushing one down the aisle, smiling, smiling, smiling." She dropped ice cubes into Maggie's glass, poured her soda into it and held it out to her.

  "You were a flight attendant?" Maggie asked, taking the glass.

  "For a while. I thought I would see the world. What I saw was a bunch of airport terminals. After that I did some modeling. Evian all right?" she asked Dyna, who nodded.

  "It was on a photo shoot out on Long Island that I met Jack. We were doing an advertising brochure for one of his companies. I forget which one. I just remember shivering in a damn bathing suit on a chilly beach in October. Anyway, he swept me away from it all, and I've never had to work a day since."

  Leslie smiled when she said it, but Maggie thought she detected a touch of wistfulness in her voice. Leslie took a long drink from her glass.

  "We should have come before, to offer our condolences," Maggie said. She sat down on a white brocade sofa that sank under her weight about as much as a rock would, and she blinked with surprise, causing Leslie to laugh.

  "When I said 'Let's get comfy' I forgot where we'd be sitting. The furniture in here is all for show." Leslie carried her glass to one of the stiff-looking chairs and sat down, pulling her feet up. "The only really comfortable stuff is in Jack's study - nice, soft leather - but I just can't bring myself to go in there."

  "We understand," Dyna said, looking sympathetic.

  "Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to break up in tears or anything. It's just that the whole situation is so... so weird. They won't even release his body yet. Jack wanted to be cremated, and they're telling me they're not finished with it yet - tests and all, you know."

  Maggie nodded. She took a sip of her Pepsi, and out of the corner of her eye saw something move. A cat, tiger-striped and muscular, had slipped through a partially-opened glass door that appeared to lead to a solarium and was marching firmly towards Leslie.

  "Mrs. Hanson!" Leslie shouted. "He's here again!" She looked distinctly uncomfortable.

  Mrs. Hanson scurried into the room, all apologetic. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Warwick," she said, in what sounded to Maggie like a slight Germanic accent. "I was sure I had closed him in the den. I don't know how...."

  "Just get him out of here."

  Leslie's vehemence surprised Maggie. The cat didn't look particularly vicious, and in fact hung limply in Mrs. Hanson's hands when she scooped him up and carried him away.

  "He's Jack's cat," Leslie said, as though that explained everything. "He found him in an alley somewhere and brought him home, called him Ali. I swear he fussed over him more than I've seen him do for any other livin' creature. Any other. He knew I didn't like cats, but..., oh, never mind. I'll get rid of him, somehow." She grinned. "Would y'all like a cat?"

  Maggie saw Dyna's eager intake of breath, and before she could blurt anything out said, "We can't. We're just staying at the cabin for a short time. No way. Sorry."

  Leslie shrugged. "It's okay. Maybe Mrs. Hanson knows someone."

  Maggie's gaze wandered back to the room the cat had been in, an idea forming. "Is that a solarium?" she asked. "Could I take a peek at it?"

  Leslie looked over her shoulder in surprise, as though she had forgotten the room existed. "Sure. It's nice and cheery in there, but the wicke
r furniture really isn't any more comfortable than this stuff."

  "No," Maggie said, "I can see some greenery in there, and I just love plants." Dyna looked at her with an odd expression which Maggie ignored as she popped up and followed Leslie to the sun room. "Oh, isn't it lovely, Dyna," she said, cringing inwardly as she heard herself sound just like one of her mother's gushy friends. "How do you keep them so healthy?"

  Leslie shrugged again. "I don't take care of them. They came with the house, and Mrs. Hanson waters them, I guess."

  Maggie wandered around the room, which was bright and sunny, and, with its tropical decor, a stark contrast to the bare trees and snow visible through the windows. She bent down to sniff at a blooming camellia. "Mmm, wonderful." A tall palm stood in its pot nearby. "I could spend all day in a room like this. Doesn't it make you want to stretch out in a swim suit and soak up the sun?"

  Leslie was about to say something when Mrs. Hanson's voice sailed in calling, "Mrs. Warwick. It's the caterer. Shall I have him call back later?"

  "No, I'd better talk to him. Excuse me," she said to Maggie and Dyna, "I'll just be a minute."

  The moment she left the room, Maggie hissed to Dyna, "Stick close. I'm going to take samples." She immediately began breaking off parts of each of the plants in the room.

  "What are you doing?" Dyna whispered, wide-eyed.

  "I'll explain later." Maggie broke off a piece of the potted palm. "How can we carry these? I don't have a purse. Did you bring one?" Maggie tested the pockets of her jeans, which fit closely and found they wouldn't hold more than a leaf or two.

  "No, I hate purses," Dyna said. "I don't know. Wait, put them in here." Dyna held out the front pocket-pouch of her hooded sweatshirt, and Maggie quickly shoved the twigs already filling her hands into it. By the time Leslie returned, the pouch had been fully packed, and Dyna kept a hand at each side to keep greenery from slipping out. Maggie thought the look on her face was priceless, a combination of "who, me?" innocence, and "please don't ask me to shake hands" worry. She would have laughed if the situation weren't so serious.

  They followed Leslie back to the living room where she immediately freshened her drink. "That was Dan Morgan. He's doing the food for the fund raiser."

  "Fund raiser?" Maggie asked.

  "Yes, weeks ago Jack and I agreed to hold a fund-raising buffet dinner here to benefit the school. They need a new library, and Jack, of course, was looking for ways to ingratiate himself with the town. It's gotten a lot of promotion ever since, and I don't see any reason not to go ahead with it."

  She really doesn't see any reason, does she, Maggie thought.

  "I don't suppose you knew about it, but everyone will be here. The PTA ladies are handling the ticket sales. I hope you'll both come? It's the day after tomorrow."

  Maggie nodded, slowly. "I guess...." She looked over at Dyna, who sat looking a little plumper than she had when she first arrived, her hands still stuffed into each side of her pouch.

  "Sure," Dyna said, nodding stiffly. She seemed afraid of talking too much, as if taking in the extra breath needed would call attention to her lumpy belly.

  Leslie didn't seem to be noticing much, though, her thoughts on other things. "The food will be wonderful, since Dan's doing it. Have you ever tried his wild mushroom soup? It's out of this world. I always ordered it when we ate at his restaurant. He sent some over after, well, after, you know, that town meeting, which was so kind of him, don't you think? Anyway, there'll be loads of flowers. And music. We'll move the baby grand into the...." Leslie suddenly screamed as Ali, the orange cat, appeared from nowhere and leaped up onto her lap.

  "Get off! Get off!" She had partially risen from her chair, but the cat stubbornly refused to jump off, his claws anchored firmly in her clothing. "Mrs. Hanson!" Maggie stood up to help and had just about pried him loose when the housekeeper appeared at her shoulder to take him from her.

  "I was in the laundry room, Mrs. Warwick," she explained, agitated. "I don't know how he gets out! He's like a demon cat."

  "A demon, yes! He's a devil cat. I won't have him around me! I won't! He's Jack's cat. I've seen his eyes. He's watching me! Jack is watching me through him."

  <><><>

  "Wow," Dyna said, as she buckled herself into Maggie's front seat. "What was all that?"

  They had taken their leave, Leslie apologizing for her outburst but clearly too over-wrought for their company anymore. Dyna had managed to get her jacket on without losing much of the clandestine contents of her sweatshirt, gracefully picking up a single twig that had fallen to the floor as Maggie distracted their hostess at the door.

  "I don't know." Maggie frowned as she looked at the house, then put her key in the ignition.

  "Sounded like a guilty conscience to me, wouldn't you say?" Dyna asked.

  "Maybe. Whatever she was sipping might have had a lot to do with it too."

  "Could be. And maybe she was sipping whatever she was sipping because of a guilty conscience. Anyway, now that we're out of there," Dyna patted her middle, "how about explaining what all these plant pinchings are for? You're not going to start your own greenhouse, are you?"

  "No, but I want to take them to a greenhouse or a garden center. Someplace where they can identify them for me."

  "You're suddenly interested in botany?"

  "I'm interested in plants that can kill. Poisonous plants."

  "Oh, wow, you mean like hemlock? Do you think Leslie was growing hemlock to poison Jack?"

  "I don't think anything yet. That's why I want to get these identified. It's just one possibility that occurred to me after that cat came out of the sun room. Remember Paul said the book found at Elizabeth's was marked at the chapter on household poisons? Well, plants are in a lot of households. Maybe one of these are poisonous. Now, where can we go to find out?"

  Dyna pulled out her iPhone and started tapping away. “Here’s a garden center,” she said. “They should be able to help. Let’s see, it’s only about eight miles out of town. Close enough?”

  “Sounds good,” Maggie said, and listened as Dyna read off the directions from the website and added a few herself.

  Within minutes, Maggie drove into a large, mostly empty parking lot, surrounded by an open area that in warm weather must have been filled with flowers and shrubs but now was filled with snow. A large, glass-roofed building stood before them, and when they entered Maggie immediately felt an increase in heat and humidity. She had to shield her eyes from the bright glare of sun coming through the roof, and once her eyes finally adjusted she saw a long, narrow interior filled with rows of tables. Indoor plants, potting soil, and varieties of plastic and ceramic pots filled the tables and much of the floor. A lone clerk sat next to the cash register. She put aside a book and looked up expectantly.

  "Hi," Maggie said. "I need someone who is a plant expert. Would that be you?"

  The young woman grinned and shook her head. "That'd be my Dad. I just help out here on the afternoons I don't have classes."

  "And I take it you're not majoring in botany?"

  The woman laughed. "Uh-uh. Accounting. All I can tell you is how much the merchandise costs. Dad's gone to Plymouth to pick up some things. He won't be back for two or three hours, at least.

  "Do you think if I left these here," Maggie asked, - Dyna had begun pulling out plant pieces from her sweatshirt to lay on the counter, causing the young woman's eyes to widen - "he could identify them for me?" She wrote down the phone number at the cabin. "I'm interested in plants that could be poisonous, in any way." Seeing the frown that formed on the girl's face, she quickly added, "My sister, here, is expecting a baby, and we don't want to have anything around that could be harmful."

  "Oh, I understand. Kids always put the darndest things in their mouths don't they? I'm sure Dad would be glad to help. I'll just put these in plastic bags, until he gets back."

  "Thanks so much," Maggie said.

  "I'm having a baby?!" Dyna's aggrieved whisper into Maggie's ear made
her flinch as they pushed out the door of the greenhouse.

  "Shh, sister dear," she whispered back. "Mustn't upset your hormones."

  "It's bad enough I looked pregnant back at Leslie's with the front of my shirt all stuffed up. Now you're telling people I am pregnant." She was grumbling, but Maggie knew it was just for show.

  "Dyna, after this is all over, I promise to go around and explain everything. Right now, I'm starved. In case you haven't noticed, we never had lunch, and it's almost dinner time. How about stopping somewhere?"

  Dyna brightened up at the mention of food. "I was just thinking the same thing. I could feel my blood sugar starting to go down."

  "Yes," Maggie said with a sly grin. "We mustn't let that blood sugar get too low now that you're eating for two." She sidestepped away from Dyna's kick and jumped into the car.

  "Just for that remark, I'm going to insist on going to my favorite place," Dyna said, as she climbed into the passenger seat.

  "Where's that?"

  "Leslie reminded me about it, talking about the catering she's having. Dan Morgan's restaurant."

  Maggie winced. "I was thinking of someplace we could get dinner in a hurry. I need to hit the books tonight."

  "Morgan's won't be busy on a week night. And he's the only place that carries vegetarian selections. I promise, we'll get quick service."

  Maggie pondered as she put the car in gear. The food items they had back in the cabin's refrigerator would take some time to prepare, she knew. Besides, her stomach had started growling. If they were seated quickly at the restaurant, at least there'd likely be bread sticks to nibble at.

  "Okay," she said, backing out of the parking space. "Just tell me the way." She promised herself after that evening’s treat she would put aside all thoughts of the murder for several hours, and immerse herself completely in "Math Games and Puzzles," even if she had to do without another night's sleep.

 

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