Saving Face (Mount Faith Series: Book 1) (11 page)

They talked far into the morning until Anne had to collect D.M. from the hospital.

Taj went over to his house, too keyed up to think. How did he really feel about Anne? He assessed himself. She seemed like a lovely woman. It would be nice to get to know her, but was she a murderess? Was Bancroft a murderer? His biological parents were not looking so good in all of this.

He called Natasha in the evening. She answered sleepily.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Oh yes," Natasha said readily.

"You are cordially invited to my abode," Taj said formally, a laugh in his voice. "I am cooking salmon. I am even baking cookies."

Natasha squealed, "Right on. I love you for this!"

***

Natasha rolled out of bed, yanked a comb through her hair to pull it back from her face, and went by Taj's place. Her eyes looked puffy and a bit red. She had stayed up all night searching through the last of Edward Carlisle's email and was no closer to finding more clues than she was before. She and Harry would need to do some serious assessing. This case was not going to be solved in one school semester, not when they were dealing with so many variables. She entered Taj's den and sat down. He was in jeans, a blue polo shirt, and was wearing an apron.

She lay back in the settee. "Is it okay if I close my eyes?"

"Sure," Taj said very near to her ear and her eyes snapped open. "Behave yourself Dr. Jackson."

Taj laughed and kissed her on the lips. "Do you want me to behave myself in an inappropriate way? I ask because you didn't clarify."

Natasha smiled. Her eyes were closed but she imagined his quirky smile, his chocolate brown eyes, and his chiseled lips.

He blew across her face and she opened her eyes slowly. "I am tired."

He sat down fully in the settee beside her and put her legs in his lap. "Me too. I spoke to Anne today."

"Really? Did you get the 411 on your conception?"

"I did and even though I am used to getting the grittiest of details about people's lives, I felt a slight twinge of discomfort hearing about Anne Carter and Ryan Bancroft."

He shook his head. "I spent hours this morning with both my biological parents. It's amazing how life turns out, huh?"

Natasha looked at him lazily. "What did Bancroft say? Any clues?"

"He said he's concerned. He also says he suspects that Edward Carlisle was murdered."

Natasha groaned. "So the secret is not so secret anymore. Unless of course he's the murderer, so it wasn't a secret anyway."

"I don't think he is," Taj said. "I saw genuine fear in his eyes this morning."

"Are you seeing these things because you know he is your father? Ah Taj! You are unable to be unbiased about these people, aren't you?"

Taj started massaging her legs. "I would not say that. Though I think a small part of me is excited. But every time the excitement rears its head I try to quell it."

"And there goes my unbiased psychiatrist," Natasha said exasperatedly. I think Harry and I are chasing our tails."

Taj started massaging her instep.

"Don't stop," Natasha moaned as Taj slowly kneaded her feet.

Taj grinned. "Natasha you are giving me ideas."

Natasha shook her head. "I am never ever going down the route of premarital sex again. Not after my last relationship and though I fancy you like crazy. It's not going to happen."

"What happened in your last relationship?" Taj asked soothingly.

"He was a criminal," Natasha said simply, "wanted an easy route to the police force, so he sought me out. Unfortunately for him, I don't find law breaking a fun activity, not even for profit."

The oven timer went off in the kitchen and Taj got up. "The salmon is ready. I only need to check the potatoes and then dinner is ready."

"Smells yum," Natasha said following him. "So what about your relationships?"

Taj shrugged. "I am not into short term uncommitted relationships either that are glued together by just sex." He looked at her seriously. "I have always been a one woman kind of man from high school."

"Oh yes, that high school girlfriend," Natasha said, "surely you've had relationships since her. What's her name again?"

"April," Taj said. "April May Cole." He savored her name.

It made Natasha feel inexplicably jealous.

"The truth is I have had no relationship that really mattered since her…no one to really make me think about forever and always. But," he paused, "in the short time since I've met you I've been trying to assess whether I'm suffering from a heightened case of lust, or is this the beginning of the real thing. I have never asked those questions before."

He came to stand before Natasha. "Are you going to be as honest with me about your feelings for me as I was with you?"

Natasha shook her head. "Oh no. My feelings for you are too new and wobbly and completely unlike me." Natasha looked at Taj shyly. "I stayed up last night imagining that I was a housewife…your housewife…cooking your dinner, having your children, and living with you. That spooked me out. I am an independent kind of girl. Added to that I have a case..."

Taj took her chin in his hand. "So both of us have intense feelings for each other?"

Natasha nodded.

"We have wicked chemistry too." Taj said, he leaned toward her mouth and barely brushed her lips. Their lips hadn't even connected and Natasha could feel one side of her going numb and the other feeling uncomfortably tingly.

Chemistry, sexual attraction—whatever it was called, she and Taj had it in spades.

"Potatoes are ready," he whispered and then took her mouth in an exploratory kiss that went on for ages.

They ate in near silence after that kiss–both of them looking at each other intently.

"I don't think you should play squash with Bancroft," Natasha said softly after a few minutes of hot looks.

"Playing with Bancroft was the last thing on my mind," Taj said ruefully, "I was thinking of playing with you actually." He cleared his throat. "But why do you think I shouldn't...play with Bancroft that is?"

Natasha blushed. "I think he's cunning and you should be careful around him."

"Noted," Taj said, "but the man is really good at squash and we have a rematch. Added to that I have a perverse need to get to know him better."

Natasha toyed with her water glass. "Just be careful, okay."

"Yes Detective," Taj said. "What's next on your agenda for the case. Talk to me and take my mind from places it should not be treading."

Natasha grimaced. "Next stop, Miranda Carlisle. Harry and I will be interviewing her tomorrow at her place. She told the Superintendent that we could find her at home in the morning."

Natasha and Taj parted ways at a little after eight. She drove slowly unto the main campus and turned into her dormitory parking lot. She was a mass of contradicting emotions, thinking about Taj. She was happy, then sad, then elated, then deflated. She got out of the car and glanced at her watch. She hated to violate the strict dormitory rules. She found them childish and restrictive, but appreciated that there were several young people there who needed the boundaries of rules for their own protection.

She leaned on her car and thought about him. There was a slight wind blowing. She pushed her hand further into her army camouflage jacket.

A hand touched her arm and she spun around quickly, and acting on pure instinct she grabbed the hand that touched her and pulled back the thumb.

"Yikes!" Micah Bancroft shouted, "don't kill me!"

Natasha released his finger, and spun around, fully looking at him. "What are you doing here?"

"I followed my youngest staff member home." He indicated to a young lady who was hurrying up the steps to the dormitory's front desk while he rubbed his hand.

"That's nice of you," Natasha said.

Micah shrugged, "I called you three times. I was wondering if your name was still Natasha."

Natasha smiled. "Just taking in some night air. My thoughts were far away from here."

Micah nodded. "Don't take in too much though, and be careful around here. I heard that D.M. Carter was almost killed by an injection. But then again, judging from your quick moves, you are a force to be reckoned with yourself."

Natasha raised her brows. "When did you hear about D.M. Carter?"

"This evening at the lounge. Some of my lab friends said that they had to rush to save his life."

Natasha groaned and closed her eyes
.
So much for this remaining quiet.

Micah frowned at her.

"It's nothing." Natasha smiled. "You be careful too."

Micah grinned. "My skin is too tough for a needle."

She smirked and walked briskly to the steps of the dorm, turning to wave to Micah who had not moved from the spot where she had left him.

Chapter Fourteen

"Why do people hate Mondays?" Harry asked as Natasha yawned. They were heading up further into the hills to a rural district called Green Vale—there the Carlisles owned a sprawling five-acre farm.

"Because Mondays mean work and boring routine."

Harry laughed. "Not for us. Do you know why I love my job?"

"Why?" Natasha yawned again and closed her eyes.

"There is never a dull day," Harry chuckled, "and every day is different."

Natasha closed her eyes. "I hardly slept last night. Two nights in a row."

"Case keeping you awake?" Harry asked.

"Not really, there is Taj too."

Harry shook his head. "I have never seen you so soft and female like…over a shrink of all persons. What, are you sleeping with him now?"

"Nope," Natasha said, "I am doing this the old fashioned way. First we get to know each other, then we get married...you know that kind of way."

Harry nodded. "That's the way I did it."

He turned into the gateway of a house with an impressive garden.

"You can tell that she is a botanist," Natasha whispered gazing at the profusion of plants that led up to the driveway of the house. "My gosh, look at that. I have never seen that flower in pink before. What's it called again?"

"Don't know," Harry said, "but it really looks nice."

"That's a blue tree Harry," Natasha said pointing at a shrub height tree with blue leaves.

Harry stopped the car. "Where does she get these things from?"

"It's like the garden of Eden," Natasha said then gasped. "That's a Red Delicious Apple tree—it's loaded. I had no idea they could grow in Jamaica."

"They can." Miranda stood on the verandah. She was in a flowing burgundy caftan eating a fruit. "If you know what to do."

"Welcome to Natasha, whom I have met before, and to Harry." She nodded at them. "This way please."

They walked up to the steps of her verandah, which had tubs of potted plants that looked strange to Natasha. She stepped into the house and was shocked to realize that she was stepping into a courtyard area, there were even more miniature trees and plants.

Miranda led them into a living room area that opened to the courtyard.

"This place is gorgeous," Natasha said.

Miranda laughed. "I know. I bet you didn't notice the house's architecture or what style my furniture were."

Natasha looked around. "You are right."

"That's because nature is more beautiful than anything man can conceive."

"Have a seat please." Miranda sat in a couch before them. She was eating a yellow fruit with a black and white center.

"I was just having my first fruit of the day," she said, "it's the yellow dragon fruit. Would you like to try it?"

Her oval shaped face was wreathed in smiles.

Natasha searched her mind for all the information she knew about Miranda. She was forty-eight years old, a botanist, born in England, did university in Jamaica. Married Edward Carlisle as soon as they graduated college. They had been married for twenty years before his death. No children. She still had traces of the British accent.

"No, thank you," Harry said looking at the fruit doubtfully.

Miranda looked at Natasha. "Do you want to live dangerously?"

"Why not?" Natasha said bracingly. "I have heard about it, I thought it was only found in Asian countries."

Miranda laughed. "Most Jamaicans are clueless about cacti fruits. These were growing wild in my garden when I first got here. I drove all over the country and found them just sitting around in the wild with no one to pick them but the birds."

She went to the kitchen and came back with a plate. The fruit was cut in half.

"Just dig in." She said handing it to Natasha with a spoon.

Natasha dug in.

"What does it taste like?" Harry asked curiously.

Natasha slowly savored the taste." Like kiwi mixed, with pear, mixed with melon?"

Harry frowned. "Okay I will take a piece."

Miranda smiled and went for a saucer with another. She handed it to Harry.

"Did you know that the flower of this fruit opens only at night, for one night only. It has to be pollinated exactly at that time or it will not bear fruit."

She looked at the two of them brightly, "There are so many plants around this country that are fruit bearing but because we have no knowledge of them we pass them by."

Natasha finished off her fruit and cleared her throat. "This was good."

"And filled with Vitamin C, minerals, and lots of antioxidants," Miranda added.

"So... er..." Harry said wiping his lips. "You are very experienced with chemicals and there makeup."

Miranda smiled serenely. "I am a botanist and good at what I do detective. There are seventeen key nutrients that help plants to grow. For instance, nitrogen aids in the growing of limbs and green foliage and potassium is what the plant needs to bear fruit. Phosphorous is another major nutrient that is..."

"I don't mean to cut you Mrs. Carlisle," Harry said butting in before she listed all seventeen nutrients, "but..."

"Please call me Miranda," Miranda said smoothly.

"Miranda," Harry said uncomfortably, "are you aware of how your husband died?"

Miranda shrugged. "Yes. Somebody poisoned him with potassium chloride."

Natasha glanced at Harry shocked. So she knew.

"Did Superintendent Greyson tell you this?" Natasha asked slowly.

"Oh pish posh," Miranda said, "of course he did. You know, Paul Greyson was my college sweetheart before I met Edward."

Natasha and Harry looked at each other.

"He was inconsolable at the funeral," Miranda arranged her legs, crossing one over the other. "He is determined to get the so-called killer and bring them to justice. I had no idea, until Greyson called, that you were the undercover agents that were sent to investigate this crime." She cackled. "If you ask me, I think it was a merciful death. You see, the victim doesn't suffer long when the two components enter the blood stream. In high doses it's like a wonderful explosion of the heart muscles."

Natasha and Harry looked at each other again with alarmed.

"Miranda," Natasha asked quietly. "Did you kill Edward Carlisle?"

"Oh dear, no," Miranda said quickly. "If I wanted to kill dearest Edward I would have done so a long time ago when he first started to cheat on me. Has your investigation turned up anything yet about his little extra marital affairs?"

"Well, we have found some correspondence," Natasha said. "We had wondered if you knew about them."

"Of course. I knew he was cheating," said Miranda, "a wife always knows. She may ignore the clues but there is always a little instinctual feeling that something is not right. I got that feeling the second year into our marriage. He struggled so hard to be a better person…the poor sod. I think his constant lying to himself gave him the blood pressure problem. Not the stresses of the school or anything else, just trying to live a double life stressed him out. I guess he was the worse choice after all. I should have married your boss, Greyson. He didn't turn out too badly."

"Er...did you know that  Carlisle had relationships with both men and women?"

Miranda's fluttering hands faltered at that. She was silent for a few minutes and Natasha could see a raw rage creep across her face before she cleverly hid it behind a bland smile.

"Not until recently." She cleared her throat. "But that's all water under the bridge now, isn't it? The sparkle of light that she had in her eyes was dampened, almost gone.

She gave them perfunctory answers to their other questions and looked super relieved when they got up to leave.

"Well, thank you for the fruit, Miranda," Natasha said simply.

Miranda nodded. "I am sorry I couldn't help more in your investigations. I wish you both all the best."

Natasha was now sure that Miranda Carlisle wasn't unaffected, as she first appeared to be. Hearing that her husband cheated on her with men gave her a special kind of pain, even rage. Was it enough to drive her to kill him?

Harry was slowly driving down the driveway. He looked at Natasha and said simply, "she did it."

Natasha nodded wearily. "Let’s say that assumption is true. How are we going to prove it?"

Harry shook his head. "It's going to be next to impossible. It's like the perfect crime. If she had known about his affairs for a while, why kill him now?"

"Maybe she just snapped," Natasha said, shaking her head. "It happens. I've heard of stories where after years of abuse women just get up one morning, usually when there spouse is on his best behavior, and kill him. Just like that. No warning."

"But how do you explain D.M. Carter?" Natasha asked suddenly remembering that the chairman of the board was attacked in a similar manner to Carlisle.

Harry shook his head. "Maybe it was a decoy to throw us off her scent."

Natasha frowned. "I doubt it, but we'll see. For a case that is supposedly top secret the Supe really told quite a few persons about his suspicions, didn't he? Even going as far as to tell one of our chief suspects everything!"

"I guess it couldn't be helped," Harry said calmly.

"But he knows," Natasha said hotly, "that the spouse is usually the first suspect. Why did he blab his mouth and tell her and then give us the task to go and find his killer. I tell you, Superintendent Greyson must be off his rocker."

Harry nodded solemnly. "I am beginning to believe he is. If he weren't the Supe, I would tell him a piece of my mind."

Natasha laughed suddenly. "We say this about him on every case. He is really not a very good detective. He should leave his pathetic detective work to persons who are trained for it."

Harry grimaced. "And he is getting worse. Now how to prove that Miranda Carlisle murdered her husband. She doesn't seem like someone who would give a confession. She seemed delighted about the whole thing…like she was mocking us somehow. She also doesn't seem like she would survive prison without her precious plants."

"Maybe she feels justified," Natasha said winding down the car window. "Did you see how she told us what happens after an overdose of potassium. She was actually salivating."

"As bad as the man was as a husband I think he deserved a divorce, not death. Miranda Carlisle must have known why she stayed with him all these years. She didn't just find out about his infidelity. I don't know what is happening to people these days."

Natasha raised her eyebrows. "You overlooked one point though Harry. She was okay with him cheating on her with women. That was acceptable, but that look of rage says she was downright furious about his relationships with men. That must have been the last straw."

Harry glanced at her contemplatively and then repeated. "I would bet my last gas money that she did it."