Lethal Dose of Love (36 page)

She vividly recalled how he laid his backpack on the desk nearest the door. She saw Richard’s creased blue jeans, striped t-shirt and cotton jacket as clearly as if he stood before her now. He’d run a hand through his too-long hair and walked toward her desk. Closer. Too close for comfort, but she didn’t want to embarrass him by moving, or asking him to back away. He said a couple of pleasantries about the weather and she had looked out the window. Yes, the weather
was
nice, she agreed, admitting she’d been so engrossed in grading the tests that she hadn’t even noticed. He’d suddenly bent down and kissed her on the mouth. Instinctively she reached up and shoved him away, hard. He stumbled over his own sneakers, hadn’t fallen, but had leaped up, furious.

Stephanie backed her brothers’ story even though she’d been nowhere around. The school board tried to remain on Payton’s side. She had an impeccable record, and the Carlson kid had been trouble more than once, but the Carlson parents were unflappable. Either Payton left or they smeared the school’s reputation all over the newspapers. So she’d gone home to Cameron who did his best to soothe her wounds by taking her to Greenland.

Payton’s fist pounded the sheet, making Maggie glance up. Teaching was all she’d ever wanted to do. How much further would Sean have gone if he’d lived? The cops must be wondering the same thing.

Chapter 41

The bright sun woke Payton at 8:05. She unfolded herself from around Maggie and stretched. Her first thought was of Aden. She flung off the sheet, padded into the guest room and peered out the window. His car was still in the driveway. The morning paper, wrapped in bright red plastic, lay on the front stoop. He wasn’t up yet.

Payton went back to her room. Maggie sat perched on the edge of the bed, still too small to jump down. Payton carried the kitten downstairs to use her litter box, started the coffee and went upstairs to shower. Payton was dressed and halfway down the stairs when the phone rang. She rushed to pick up the cordless handset. “Hello,” she said a little breathlessly. “Hi, Helen.”

“What time did you get in? Did everything go all right?”

“A little after midnight. Everything’s fine. What did I miss?”

“Aden’s been arrested. The minute he turned into his driveway, they slapped cuffs on him.” Payton groped for the nearest chair and fell into it. Why would they arrest Aden? For leaving the country when told to stay in town? It had to be something like that; it couldn’t be something more radical, like murder. Aden wouldn’t kill Sean.

Payton fed Maggie and collected her briefcase. Should she take an envelope or two from the box to read at the shop? She rubbed her temples, the site of yesterday’s headache, and decided against it. She hugged the ball of white fur waiting by the front door, somehow knowing that her owner was going out again. Payton considered MaryAnn’s idea about taking the kitten to the shop. Instead, she told Maggie, “I’m really glad Sylvie brought you to me. I’ll be back later. You’ll have someone to play with anyway, Mamie should be here soon.”

The humidity hung in the air like wet cotton batting. Aden’s house looked forlorn, as sad as the heavy June morning air. Would they let him out on bail? Probably not. He’d be considered a flight risk. But did the authorities really have anything to hold him on? Even if they didn’t, she believed they could hold him up to 48 hours. Payton thought about calling Vaughn to find out if he heard anything, then remembered their tentative date for tonight. She’d said she’d call him.

Next thing she knew, Sergeant Espinoza was clomping toward the shop. She greeted him with as much spirit as she could muster. What could he want—again? He got to it soon enough, asking first if Aden Green had purchased one of the monkshood plants.

“I heard you arrested him.”

The slight lift to his fuzzy brows showed his surprise. “Did Aden Green buy a monkshood plant?”

“You’re making a big mistake.”

“Would you mind just answering the question?”

Payton counted on her fingers “He didn’t buy a plant. He doesn’t keep plants because they would die while he’s away. He’s been in the store once, and I didn’t have
any
plants here yet, so he couldn’t even have stolen the necessary leaves.” She dropped her hands to the countertop. “Why are you here? We both know you aren’t stupid. You didn’t forget I gave you all this information before.”

“Why do you think I’m here?”

“You want to know if I found out anything in Texas.”

“You went to Texas?”

She stood up and walked around the counter. “The man you had tailing me wasn’t very discreet.”

He was undaunted. “So, what did Mrs. Johnson say?”

“You really shouldn’t let private citizens do your job for you.”

Espinoza recovered quickly. “I talked to her. I’m sure you know that.”

“She wasn’t impressed you delivered news of her nephew’s death via phone.”

“I would like to know what she told you. You were in that nursing home far too long for her to have said ‘sorry, I can’t help you.’”

“Would you believe we became fast friends? We realized we had a lot in common. What’s wrong with that?”

“Name one thing you had in common.”

“MaryAnn. Sean. Sackets Harbor.” She added, “Sailing.”

“We can do this the hard way…at headquarters.”

“Don’t threaten me, Sergeant.”

How much, if anything, should she divulge? She didn’t want to withhold information that might help, but she also didn’t want their fingers digging probing. Potentially destroying the reputations of innocent people. She decided to wade through the rest of the envelopes before saying anything at all—if they didn’t already know about the box. Surely, if someone were watching her…

“I’m sorry. She didn’t tell me anything that would help the case.”

He moved so quickly, she didn’t have time to brace herself. He stepped close. She tried to back away, tripped and went down hard on her rear. The sergeant knelt beside her, true concern on his face. “Are you hurt? I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Yes you did. You thought you could intimidate me into blurting out information.” She allowed him to help her up.

After Espinoza left, Payton tried to do some bookwork. The trail of numbers was interrupted by a single thought. She hadn’t been tailed
from
Texas or they would know about the box.

At home, Payton greeted Maggie and Mamie in that order. She went to the pantry, removed two more envelopes from the box and took them to her office. There were several people browsing downstairs, so Payton waited for Maggie to scamper inside and shut the door. With the kitten settled in her lap, Payton examined the envelopes, dated 1/1/95 and 3/17/95. The one dated in January contained a handwritten invoice in the same penmanship as the date on the envelope. It described a sale Sean had made to a man named Rich Saunders, no contact information given
.
The price was $15,000. The invoice said “for painting titled
Lake George
by Church” and stated official documents had been provided. There was no copy of such papers in the envelope, nor was there information as to who’d made out the validation papers. Why did the name Church ring a bell? He must be pretty good if his stuff sold for that much. If the painting was so valuable, why would Sean sell it? He loved having beautiful things around him. Maybe he needed money—possibly to open his café. She made a note to see if the dates coincided.

The second envelope provided the answer to her previous question. It, too, was a sales invoice in the amount of $15,000. This one to a woman, Glenda O’Connor, for the sale of
Lake George
by Church. So, two more paintings, same name same artist. Which could mean only one thing: Sean Adams was in the business of selling forged paintings. Was it possible the same person had painted Amanda’s
Commodore
? Who’d provided documentation on the Church paintings? Could it also be Miles Arenheim? A sinking feeling told her it was. Payton put Maggie on the floor. She went to the door and called Mamie, who waddled in.

“Two things: Are you familiar with an artist named Church?”

Mamie assumed a puzzled expression. “You must mean Frederic Edwin Church. Why do you ask?”

Payton shrugged. “I saw a painting of his that I liked. Is it possible he painted two of the exact same painting?”

Mamie’s confusion increased. “I suppose it happens on occasion, but there are always differences. And different titles.”

“Is Miles returning to Sackets Harbor soon?”

“I have no idea, why?”

“My husband owned a number of buildings in Minneapolis. Well, I own them now. I was wondering if Miles would be interested in setting up another gallery in one of them.” Payton finished the long-winded commentary and took a breath.

“He hasn’t been around to see the gallery since we opened. Maybe I can get him here and you could tell him your idea. Can I use your phone?”

Mamie went to the kitchen to make her call. Payton used her cell phone and dialed the number on Espinoza’s business card and left a voice mail for him to call her. Mamie returned wearing a wide smile; Miles would be able to come as soon as tomorrow, around noon.

Chapter 42

This time Vaughn bore no flowers. And this time he didn’t hesitate to talk about the case. The only thing was, now Payton didn’t want to talk about it. She had way more information than she wanted. She sat quietly looking out the pickup window, the same as the last time, but now the atmosphere was different. Payton felt it, and she saw Vaughn did too.

He pulled into the parking lot at Briton’s Mini Golf and smiled over at her, the smile intended as a question. She nodded. “I haven’t played in years.”

“They have a snack bar too. I thought we could grab a little something.”

“Sounds good.”

“Maybe it’ll get this case off your mind.”

“It’s not off yours,” she said.

“No, but police work is my life.”

“And the suspects are my friends.”

“I know.”

“I thought you told me all the suspects were women.”

“I did,” he admitted.

“Then why did they arrest Aden?”

“Because he left town without letting anyone know and he didn’t contact anyone while he was gone.”

“So, he’s really not a suspect?”

“That I’m not sure about.” His tone said he wasn’t happy about this. He undid his seat belt and watched it slide back into the slot. “Sergeant Espinoza says you’ve been investigating.”

Payton shrugged.

“You could have asked me what you wanted to know.”

“You said you didn’t want to talk about it. Besides, you told me you weren’t privy to the case.”

“I’ve had some of my own questions,” he said. “Like what was Amanda doing out walking after midnight the night before the murder?”

What?
“Did you ask her?”

“She said she couldn’t sleep.”

“With all her problems trying to keep Edward from finding out about the painting, I’m not surprised,” Payton said.

“But Edward already knew by then.”

“I heard he and Sean fought. Where did it happen?”

Vaughn ran a hand across his sweaty forehead then opened the pickup door. “You mean like, did Edward meet up with him on the street?”

“Right, or seek him out at the café? Find him on his boat? Where they met could be very important.”

“The night they fought, Sean was at the marina preparing his boat for the race.”

“So it probably happened down on the dock,” Payton said.

Vaughn nodded.

“The poisoning had to be planned in advance. Which means Edward would’ve had the container of monkshood paste with him.”

“Right. Not sure you know it or not, he passed a polygraph.”

“Did they find any DNA evidence on
MaryAnn
?”

“The waves pretty much washed the deck clean.”

Payton opened her door. Cool air pushed in raising goose bumps on her arms. “The waves didn’t wash the poison residue off the ropes though, right?”

“No. They retrieved good samples.”

“Would someone have to be well versed in plant knowledge to have done this?”

“You kidding?” Vaughn laughed. “These days anyone with a computer can get information to do anything. Or anyone who watches CSI.”

She laughed and got out of the car. Several couples were golfing. They laughed and joked as though without a care in the world.

Vaughn beat her two games to one. They stopped for a break and had steamed hotdogs with chili on top. The chili was a five-alarm batch Payton wasn’t prepared for. The first bite sent her into spasms of coughing. Vaughn handed her a cold drink. It took several minutes, but she finally recovered.

Later, he beat her another two games. Then he took her to the A&W for root beer floats. Vaughn walked her to the door and once again didn’t go in when she invited him. He planted a kiss on her cheek, a little closer to her lips than the previous time. Payton wondered how many dates before he actually kissed her full on the mouth.

Aden’s car was still in his driveway; his lights were still off. As far as she knew, the 48-hour period during which authorities could hold a suspect was just about up. Maybe they were planning to charge him with Sean’s murder. Would Vaughn have told her?