Beef Stolen-Off (9 page)

After parking the car, she got out and saw Brenda Sue waving from the wraparound porch.

“I’m so glad you came,” the dark-haired woman said, her tone a direct contrast to their earlier conversation. “It’s been a long time since I enjoyed lunch with a friend.”

Jordan did the compulsory girl-hug thing and then followed the petite woman through the huge front door laden with stained glass and heavy wrought iron. The entire wall of the long hallway was filled with pictures of Brenda Sue and her husband and a lot of cows. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to conclude the Taylors probably didn’t have children.

“Let’s visit here for a while, Jordan,” Brenda Sue instructed when they reached the living room, pointing to the caramel-colored leather sofa. “Can I get you a glass of wine?”

“I’ll have to pass on the wine. I’m heading back to the office after lunch,” Jordan replied, leaving out the part about how wine and hiccups were synonymous as far as Jordan was concerned.

“Then let me get us both a glass of tea.” Brenda Sue turned and walked to the kitchen, giving Jordan a chance to study the room.

Her dad always said you could tell a lot about people by the way they lived. If that was true, Brenda Sue was sophisticated and smart, without being snooty.

Decorated in warm earth tones, the couch and matching love seat along with an antique rocking chair were the only
pieces of furniture in the room. A massive stone fireplace that went all the way to the ceiling served as an incredible focal point. With the temperature still in the low seventies during the day, a roaring fire would have been ill advised to say the least; instead, rows and rows of lit candles decorated the inside of the fireplace.

Jordan breathed deeply, taking in the sweet fragrance that reminded her of the herbal shampoo she used. She felt her shoulders relax. The entire room gave off a warm and friendly vibe, as if she were in the living room of a good friend instead of a wealthy stranger she barely knew. Her first instinct when she’d seen the size of the ranch was that Brenda Sue would be all about how much money she had. If the house was any indication, so far, Jordan was pleasantly surprised.

She looked up as her hostess came back into the room and handed her a glass of tea, noting that Brenda Sue didn’t have kitchen help. Taking a sip, she was bowled over by the sweet delicious flavor. “This is fantastic. What’s in it?”

“Orange pekoe with fresh mint added. The wife of our ranch foreman has a greenhouse out back where she grows herbs for homeopathic medicine, among other things. Her mint is the sweetest I’ve ever tasted.”

“I have to agree,” Jordan responded, taking another sip before settling back in the soft leather cushion of the sofa.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?”

Jordan set her glass on a coaster on the end table and glanced at her watch. “I’ll jump right to the point, if you don’t mind, since I have to be back at work by two.”

She’d made a deal with Egan to have this afternoon off instead of Friday this week but wanted an excuse to cut and run if things got uncomfortable. Besides, she had her heart
set on a nap when she got home. “I’m worried about Maria Morales.”

Brenda Sue’s face displayed her confusion. “Because of her health?”

“No. Because she seems terrified and even admitted she was afraid of someone. I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on who might be giving her trouble.”

Brenda Sue thought for a moment before shaking her head. “Everyone loves Maria, especially Diego. He wouldn’t hurt a hair on her head, and he’d kill anyone else who tried.” She shook her head again. “Honestly, I can’t think of anyone who would deliberately hurt that woman.” She met Jordan’s stare. “Did she actually say she was afraid of someone, or did you suggest it?”

Jordan pondered the question before answering. “I may have led her there, but twice she grabbed my arm and wouldn’t let go. Then she mouthed the words ‘Help me.’”

Brenda Sue laughed. “Since her stroke several months ago, Maria hasn’t always seemed rational. The doctors keep telling Diego that the aphasia may go away in time, but the longer she goes without speaking, the less chance there is of that happening.”

Jordan straightened on the sofa as a thought suddenly came to her. “Can she write on a notepad?”

Brenda Sue shook her head. “She was right-handed and that’s the side that was paralyzed. They’ve tried to teach her how to use the left one, but she’s never mastered it. She gets frustrated and throws the pad across the room every time.”

“It must be hard not being able to communicate.”

“I’m sure. She had her stroke just a few months after having her left hip replaced, which made it that much more devastating. She was just getting used to walking without a
cane when she had the massive bleed into her brain. As I understand it, she mistakenly took too many of the blood thinners she’d been on since the surgery. The doctor said it was a miracle she survived.”

“Did she get confused about the pills or what?”

“That’s the funny thing. When Diego counted the remaining tablets to see just how many she had ingested, none were missing. Yet her blood tests showed her clotting ability was five times slower than normal.”

“Wow, that is weird,” Jordan responded.

Brenda Sue pushed away from the table and stood up. “Enough about Maria. Ready to eat yet? I’m starving.”

“Me too.” Jordan got up and followed her through the French doors onto a veranda overlooking miles of green pasture dotted with grazing cows. “Are those Wagyu?”

The hostess looked surprised. “You know Wagyu?”

Jordan hurriedly looked away, thinking she had screwed up again before remembering she no longer needed to keep Danny’s reason for being in Ranchero a secret. “My brother’s staying with me for a few weeks. He’s a TSCRA agent sent here to investigate the increase in cattle rustling. He gave me a ten-minute ‘all you ever wanted to know about cows but were afraid to ask’ lecture.”

“Yeah, I’d heard an investigator was in town. Marcus and I lose about three or four head every few months despite our best efforts to prevent it. We move them to a new pasture nearly every night to confuse the thieves, but they always seem to know where to find the cows.”

They sat down at a small table covered in crisp white linen and adorned with rust-colored stoneware plates and the most beautiful yellow carnations Jordan had ever seen. “These are gorgeous.”

“Another of Karen’s greenhouse miracles. She makes
pretty good money selling her flowers to the shops all over the metroplex.”

“I thought you said she grows herbs for homeopathic medicine.”

“That, too. She has customers all over the world.”

“Amazing,” Jordan exclaimed. “I’d love to see the flowers.”

“Karen adores showing off her beauties. If you want, we can check them out after we eat.” She reached for Jordan’s empty tea glass. “Do you want a refill, or would you prefer water or a soft drink with your lunch?”

“I can get those anywhere. I absolutely want more tea. I still can’t believe a little mint can change the taste so much.”

Brenda Sue picked up the plates from the table. “Sit tight. I’ll be back in a flash with our lunch and more tea.”

Jordan used the time alone to contemplate their earlier conversation about Maria. The journalist in her moved straight to a more sinister explanation for the woman’s accidental blood-thinner overdose. Was it possible Diego had slipped her an extra pill or two and then lied about how many were missing?

A vision of Maria mouthing “Help me” popped into her head. Although she barely knew the woman, she vowed to at least check it out. She added a visit to the Morales house to her list of things to do in the next week or so. First, she’d have to research the kind of medicine Maria would have been prescribed after a hip replacement.

Waiting for Brenda Sue to return, she formed a plan.

“Here you go,” said Brenda Sue, carrying a tray with the tea and stoneware plates filled with the chicken salad, a small spinach salad, and a greenish concoction.

After her first bite of the chicken salad, Jordan was glad she’d come. Next she tried the greenish stuff, licking her lips to get every last drop. “This is yummy. What is it?”

“Watergate Salad.” Brenda Sue beamed. “My mother made this every time we had company. The pistachio pudding makes it so good.”

“I’d love the recipe for my column,” Jordan said, taking the last bite. “The chicken salad, too. It’s the best I’ve ever eaten.” She was already seeing both recipes as next week’s entry in the Kitchen Kupboard, hoping Victor and the gang could come up with some exotic name to go with them.

When they’d finished eating, Jordan glanced at her watch. “I’ll help you clean up, then I have to get going. It’s about a half-hour drive back to the office.”

Brenda Sue waved her off. “Don’t be silly. Marcus won’t be back until dinner time, so I have all day to tidy up. Let’s go out to the greenhouse, and I’ll introduce you to Karen and her garden. Bring your phone. You’ll want pictures.”

“Terrific. Lead the way.”

Grabbing her cell phone, Jordan followed Brenda Sue out the door to the small building sitting back about three hundred yards from the house.

“Come on around back. Karen’s always there pampering her plants.” She led Jordan through the gate and behind the greenhouse where a yellow Lab rushed to greet them, nearly knocking Brenda Sue off her feet.

“Hey, Lucky. Look what Aunt Brenda has for you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a dog biscuit. The dog snatched it and ran, his tail wagging his thanks. “Karen and David never had kids, so her plants and animals are her babies. Marcus and I have our cows, and of course, all of Karen’s critters.”

They were greeted at the entrance by a fortyish woman with dark hair tinged with gray at the temples and pulled back into a tight bun. Jordan watched the two women embrace before Brenda Sue introduced her to Karen Whitley.

After making a fuss over the beautiful flowers near the front, Jordan headed down the aisle, scanning the rest of the huge structure. It was like walking through a professional nursery filled on both sides by flowers of every size and color.

She bent down to smell a huge yellow rose with pink-tipped petals. “I’m totally dazzled, Karen. How did you get them to grow so large?” Pulling out her cell phone, she asked, “Do you mind if I snap a few pictures? My friends won’t believe me when I tell them how beautiful these are.”

“Take as many pictures as you like. I figure it’s good advertising. Flowers To Go in Connor is one of my biggest customers.” She paused. “I’ll send you home with a bouquet to entice your friends to visit the shop.”

“I’d love that,” Jordan said, already checking out which flowers she wanted.

Near the back of the greenhouse, she spotted a large area cordoned off with rope. Inside were rows of shrubs, a few she recognized as oleanders by their pretty white flowers. Beyond those were large pots of unfamiliar vines. Some were covered with yellow-green blooms that resembled little helmets, while others were adorned with a mixture of purples and blues. The sweet fragrance coming from these flowers tickled her nose, and she pulled out her camera. After snapping several pictures, she leaned over the rope to pull one closer.

“No!”

She jerked back as Karen ran up.

“Those are all poisonous,” the older woman said. “You have to wear gloves to touch them.”

“I thought only ingesting oleander was unsafe,” Jordan said, leaning away from the rope.

“That’s true, but what you were reaching for is monkshood.” Karen pointed to the purple and yellow flowers. “We’re extra careful with those, even wear gloves when we get them ready to ship to the drug companies.”

“Monkshood?” Jordan stared at the beautiful plants, finding it hard to believe something that lovely was so dangerous. “They’re used in medicine?”

“Homeopathic remedies,” Karen explained. “We ship them to health food stores all over the country. They make what they call aconite with the dried leaves and roots.”

“Aconite? What’s it used for?” Jordan asked.

“A variety of things, mostly to treat inflammatory ailments like arthritis and rheumatism. Some people even use it for colds and the flu.”

“I thought you said it was poisonous.”

“It is, in high doses,” Karen said. “That’s why we have to be very careful when we handle it.”

“Wolfsbane is another name it goes by,” Brenda Sue added. “In older times, they coated the tips of arrows with the juice and used it to kill wolves.”

“It’s also been used to commit crimes,” Karen continued. “One dentist even filled his father-in-law’s teeth with it and almost got away with the perfect murder.” She laughed. “Know anyone you’d like to see dead?”

Jordan grinned, remembering the man who’d left her tied to a tree surrounded by feral hogs several months before. Thank the Lord he was behind bars, because if she’d known about the poisonous flower then, he might not be protected by the criminal justice system now.

“Don’t you worry about working with it?”

“We’ve never had a problem, although I have gotten nauseous once or twice after processing it for several hours at a time. I’m sorry I scared you, but there’s no sense taking chances.”