Lethal Dose of Love (28 page)

She’d been a suspect before and survived.

Before, she didn’t have a motive to kill Cameron. And she’d been out shopping when he was killed.

So, how to keep the cops off the doorstep?

Find the real killer.

Easier said.

As she climbed into bed, the painting class replayed in her mind, from the moment she put her packaged chocolate chip cookies on the table to the click of the door when Mamie locked it for the night. They had talked about Sean, his personality, his deeds and misdeeds. They’d talked about Sylvie and Helen’s confrontation. They’d made jokes. Commiserated.

The Brice girl had taken Sean to court—not surprising really. She’d been young, parents would be understandably upset learning their daughter had relations with anyone. They’d talked about Claire’s erratic behavior. There was a clue somewhere in all that talk. Darned if she could see it.

Payton curled into the security of a fetal position, watching the clock. As the numbers flicked from 4:11 to 4:12 and a twinge of dawn’s light lit the room, Payton flung herself upright. She clutched the eyelet lace coverlet to her bare breasts, her nipples erect as though they’d been alerted to the same realization their owner had just made.

Chapter 32

By 8 a.m. Payton sat in Helen’s glassed breakfast room. Carter voiced his intention of “letting you girls talk” but he remained there. Payton sipped Helen’s fresh-ground hazelnut coffee and leaned back in the white wicker chair, purchased at Payton’s shop at a 10 percent friendship discount. She dropped the bomb. “I’ve decided to investigate Sean’s death.”

This was obviously not what they’d expected her to say. “Why?” they both asked at the same time.

“Because…” Payton hesitated. “I—”

“Because you’re scared they’re looking at you?” Carter asked, his usual teasing manner serious.

“Right,” Payton said.

“That’s absurd. Why would they suspect you before people who’ve known and despised Sean?” This also came from Carter. In response to the scathing look from Helen, he said to his wife, “I thought we decided you were done sticking up for Sean. Your attentions, although misguided, were well intentioned but will stop here.”

A light flush colored Helen’s cheeks.

“Did you ever buy insurance from Harry Brice?” Payton asked.

“Er, yes,” Carter replied.

“Did anyone else in the neighborhood?”

Carter laughed. “It was hard
not
to buy from him.”

“What could this have to do with Sean’s death?” Helen asked.

“I don’t know yet. Do you know if Aden bought a policy?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. They were friends,” Carter said.

“Aden was Harry’s only friend.”

“That’s not true,” argued Carter. “I was his friend.”

“Hrmph. That’s why you didn’t even know the man was dead.” This was clearly the first time Helen voiced the thought aloud. Carter’s expression registered both shock and disappointment. Helen was quick to apologize.

“Harry was diabetic,” Helen said, “plus he was suffering some sort of post traumatic stress from an injury in Korea.”

“What sort of injury?” Payton asked.

“He was shot in the leg,” Carter said. “Walked with a cane.”

“So he was unsteady on his feet?”

“He was careful.”

“Do you remember when Aden first started coming to the Wanderlust meetings?” Payton asked.

Carter chuckled. “That was back when men were allowed to come.”

“Men are still allowed,” Helen said. “Sometimes Edward shows up.”

“That’s because he won’t let Amanda out of his sight.”

There it was again, another contradiction to Payton’s opinion of the March’s relationship. “If Edward thought there was something between Amanda and Sean, what might he do?”

“Simple. He’d kill Sean,” Carter said. Suddenly the air in the room changed.

“Oh God,” Helen said.

They sat silently with their thoughts for several moments. Finally Payton spoke, “I can’t see him buying a plant and mixing up a poison concoction though. That takes planning.”

Carter pointed at Payton. “Wait. Explain.”

“The police were at Payton’s store, searching for poisonous plants,” Helen said. “They insinuated Sean had been poisoned with a plant.”

“No way Ed would use a
plant
,” said Carter. “If he killed Sean, it would be in a fit of anger. With a gun. Or his bare hands.”

Payton nodded. “I think a woman killed Sean.”

“Anyone in particular?” Carter asked.

“No. I’ve been talking and listening a lot, that’s all so far. What do you think about Amanda?”

“No!” Helen said, but then leaned back, blinked twice, and said, “Maybe.”

“She’s as gentle as a lamb. I’d more likely picture Helen—Ouch! Stop kicking me.” Carter bent and rubbed his shin.

“What kind of thing is that to accuse me of, Carter Mortenson?”

“Oh stop it. I just meant that personality-wise, you’re more the type because you’re more logical, more likely to plan. Amanda’s sort of a scatterbrain.”

“I never thought of her that way,” Payton said. “So when did Aden start coming to the meetings?”

“Almost right from when he moved to town,” Helen said. “We dragged him everywhere at first.”

“Ha!” Carter threw back his head and roared. “You dragged him everywhere, little Miss Matchmaker. He really disappointed her, though. He never went out with one of Helen’s setups more than once.”

“When did he stop coming to the meetings?”

“He didn’t come very often because of his job. I think he just sort of petered out.”

“What about Sean? Did he ever come?”

“In the beginning, yes.” Helen took a sip of coffee.

“When did he stop?” Seeing Helen’s mounting confusion she said, “I’m trying to piece together a timeline. Was Sean still coming when Harry died? Did he and Aden ever come at the same time?”

“When Aden found Harry dead, Sean was still attending the meetings. I remember because Sean made a rude comment about Harry. He said ‘the old gimp shouldn’t be trying to act like a kid.’”

“No, that’s not exactly right,” Carter added. “He said ‘Old gimps shouldn’t try and do kids’ jobs.’”

“You’re right,” Helen said. “That made Aden angry. He picked Sean up by the front of the shirt and shook him. Sean’s feet were right off the floor! Then Aden gave him one hell of a lecture about being respectful to his elders.”

There was silence a moment, during which Payton tried to picture Aden angry. She failed.

“You know,” Helen said, “it doesn’t seem as though Sean came to many meetings after that.”

“Tell me about Sylvie.”

Helen wrinkled her nose but leaned back in her chair. “She grew up here. Married Garson French. He was a captain in the Air Force, and for a few years they lived on bases around the country. Moved back here when he got out, but things weren’t good between them. They got divorced a short time afterward. He moved away. She stayed. Never married again. I don’t think she dated anyone either.”

“Has she always been in real estate?”

“No. She was a high school English teacher back then. I can’t remember exactly when she opened the agency. I went to work for her—”

“She talked you into working for her,” Carter said.

“Yes,” Helen admitted. “I stayed as long as I could take it, then went out on my own.”

“She was hard to work for?”

Carter chuckled. “In case you haven’t noticed, Sylvie’s not a people person.”

“But she knew it,” Helen said. “That’s why she asked me to come in with her. Paid for real estate classes and everything.”

“When you left, was it amicable?”

“Yes and no. We had a falling out but patched most of it up afterward.”

“What do you know about her life now?”

“You mean besides the cats?” Helen asked.

Helen didn’t mention the smell so neither did Payton. “Did Sean and Sylvie have any real estate dealings? Any relationship at all?”

“There was something, while I worked there.” Helen put a finger to her lips, thinking. “Sean put a deposit on a piece of land. A few days later, I saw Sylvie accept one from someone else and tear up his check for the same property. When I asked about it, she said only that he’d backed out of the deal. But later, Sean was livid, so I knew she was lying.”

“Interesting. Do you recall who bought the land?”

“No. Sorry, but it’s probably in the town tax records.” Helen’s phone rang.

Payton looked at her watch. “I have to get to the shop.” She took her cup to the kitchen, rinsed it and put it in the sink. She practically danced across the lawn to her house. Things were really taking shape. Get people talking and there was no end to what you could find out. She retrieved the shop keys and her backpack.

Just as she’d thought, Aden and Sean had a previous relationship that ended on a bad note. And so did the relationship between Sean and Sylvie. Payton couldn’t wait to visit town hall and find out more about that land deal.

Chapter 33

MaryAnn wasn’t scheduled to work, yet she arrived at noon bearing a large white bag. “I thought you might be hungry.” She drew out a pair of Styrofoam containers. “Eat. I’ll go out back and get drinks.”

“I’ll take these to the patio. It’s too nice to eat inside.”

MaryAnn brought two Cokes, moisture already beading on the sides of the cans. Payton took a long sip and sighed.

“Hard day?” MaryAnn asked.

“Not really. I’m tired.” A few flowers had fallen from the monkshood plant onto the table. Payton picked them up and piled them on her napkin. “How are you holding up?”

“I started cleaning out the house yesterday. I thought about putting it on the market but changed my mind.”

“Can you handle living there?”

“I think so. Once I get things cleaned out, repainted. You know what I mean.”

“Can I help with anything?”

“No. Thanks. Uh, you know what? I really would like—not help, really, just someone to be there with me.”

“There must be a lot of memories.”

MaryAnn bit into a ham sandwich and chewed, looking out at the passing cars.

“Did Sean have any friends?”

MaryAnn swallowed. “Not since we got married. I can’t believe it’s been five years.”

When Payton asked, “Did he ever tell you about being accused of rape?” MaryAnn’s eyebrows shot up into her bangs. “The guy who owned my house had a daughter. The girl was loose, as Helen calls it, and charges got dropped, but I wondered if you knew anything more.”

“This is the first I’ve heard of it. Was this recent?”

“No, back when they were teens.”

“He raped me once.”

Payton didn’t say anything. MaryAnn added only “he was drunk” and seemed inclined to say nothing more.

They sat in silence for a while. Payton watched sparrows flit through the lattice, pecking at bugs on the plants, chirping as though they hadn’t a care in the world. She thought about how she’d misjudged Aden. He appeared carefree and easy-going on the surface. Yet, he’d physically manhandled Sean.

Across the table MaryAnn had finished her lunch. She pushed the Styrofoam package away. Though pensive, she didn’t seem affected by the talk about Sean being a rapist.

Payton stood and pushed the chair close to the table. “I’ll be off. Thank you for bringing lunch.” She dropped the containers, dead flowers, and her can into the shopping bag.

“Anything special you need done?”

“Nothing I can think of.” A tour bus rumbled to a stop in the parking lot. “Maybe I should stick around a while.”

“No need. Tourists are rarely in a hurry. I’ll manage. Where’s the Wanderlust meeting today?”

“At the battlefield. Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

“I’m fine. Really.”

Payton squeezed MaryAnn’s arm. “Call if you need anything.” She turned left out of the store and waved through the lattice.

At the battlefield, several blankets, looking like a giant patchwork quilt, were spread on the freshly cut grass. Shade from the elderly maples deflected the heat of the afternoon sun. A warm breeze riffled Payton’s hair against her cheek. She brushed it away, savoring the day. Helen, Felicia and Amanda were already there. The wind turned over the corner of a rectangular green blanket. Helen straightened it and sat down with a grunt of satisfaction. “Let’s see it pop up now!”

Felicia and Amanda manned other corners. “We’re human anchors,” Amanda laughed.

“Okay, I’ll take one.” Payton sat cross-legged on the fourth corner.

Sylvie came down the hill. Payton eyed Helen watching her.

“You okay with this?” Felicia asked.

“Yes, it’s in the past.” Helen’s voice was calm, but her hands fidgeted in her lap.

Sylvie nodded hello to Payton and set a foil-wrapped plate on one of the blankets. “I brought brownies.”

“Potato salad for me,” said Helen.

“Fried chicken,” chimed in Claire.