Dandelion Dead (24 page)

We found Wallace in a bed on the left, hooked up to all kinds of monitors, with oxygen tubes in his nose, and his eyes closed. The doctor who had been writing on Wallace's chart looked up as we entered, motioned us to step outside, and pulled the curtain closed behind us.

“Is he okay? Did he have a heart attack?”

“We're still trying to determine what happened,” she said. “But he'll need to stay here for evaluation. I gather from what he told us that he just had a very stressful event at work.”

“Yes, that's right,” I said. “His niece, Lily, who also works at Nature's Way, my store, has been arrested.”

The doctor gave me a curious look. “Arrested?”

“It's all a big misunderstanding, but that's why she isn't here,” I said. “I called his wife, Suzy, who was in the city with their daughter, Ella. But they're on the Hampton Jitney right now, and it's due in at two thirty. Suzy's car is at the railroad station where the bus arrives, so she'll come right here. Lily's parents are also on their way from Boston.” Although, I thought, their primary focus would be their daughter, who was in jail.

The doctor nodded. “Fine.”

“So what happens next?”

“As soon as we have a bed upstairs, Wallace will be transferred up to the ICU, monitored, and evaluated.”

“The ICU?” Jackson said. “That must mean that it is serious. Willow said that he's been having some problems. Did the situation escalate because of the news about his niece?”

“We don't know exactly what we're dealing with yet, although he does have a confirmed blockage. And, yes, stress can definitely exacerbate a cardiac condition.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” I said.

“For now, no. He needs to rest. We'll continue to run tests, move him upstairs, and do more tomorrow. Perhaps you can call his wife for an update this evening.”

•  •  •

When we stepped out of
the ER into the cool autumn air, I took a deep breath and tried to center myself. “This has been a bad day so far. Suddenly, I feel tired and drained. I hope we can turn it around. For Lily's and Wallace's sake.”

Jackson took my hand and we walked to our cars. “Of course we can, McQuade. Especially since now that I'll be super-close to David for the next day or so. As for the energy, we can stop for coffee.”

“True, and maybe seeing them in their home environment will loosen them up. Or if that doesn't work, with this much at stake, I have no compunction about snooping around. We need answers, and fast.”

“I don't
blame you, and I can keep them occupied while you snoop from top to bottom.”

“Amy lived in a guesthouse there, so I need to check that out, too.”

“Absolutely.”

“And then I think we need to take a ride to see the Crockers and find out what Camille's planning, beyond Gerald. Did they really try to kill David to get ahead? And are they still trying? Did they put him in that vat?”

“It does seem like a two-person job,” Jackson said, taking out his truck keys. “Speaking of which, we really need to talk to David's father and brother, too.”

“We can see them on the way back from the Crockers'. We can also check all the vineyard signs to see if one of them matches that sign in those photos that were sent to David.”

“Good idea.”

“Plus, tonight is Halloween, and all the most prestigious wineries are having pairings with restaurants in town. It's a good way to catch up with the rest of our suspects—Gerald, Derek Mortimer, Carla Olsen, and one Ramsey Black.

•  •  •

Ten minutes later, Jackson took
a right on Village Lane in Orient and headed past the post office, the ice cream shop, and the Orient Country Store, past the Oysterponds Historical Society, and took a left onto West Bay Avenue.

David and Ivy's three-story Victorian home was like Nature's Way, but much more elaborate and in
the Queen Anne style. Not only was it twice the size, it had an impressive yellow and burnt-sienna exterior and extensive period details, including pink and green gingerbread trim, scalloped shingles, complicated asymmetrical wings and bays, steep, multifaceted roofs with stained-glass windows, round and octagonal towers, and a large wraparound porch with ornamental spindles and brackets. The expansive lawn led down to a large stone wall, and beyond that the road, a rocky beach, and a dock with rowboats and fishing boats tied up.

Ivy met us at the door, dressed in an expensive-looking black wool wrap over pressed jeans and flats. “Come in, please, David told me you were coming.”

“Your house is so beautiful, and what a view,” I said, truly impressed.

“Yes, it's inspired by the Boston architect H. H. Richardson, who built the first American Queen Anne house—the Watts Sherman House—in Newport, Rhode Island, in 1874,” Ivy said matter-of-factly. “Amy and I spent summers here with our grandparents when we were growing up. Off-season, we were in New York, of course.”

“Of course,” I said.

“When Grandfather Walter died a few years ago, he left it to me. David and I recently had the exterior repainted and updated the interior as well. I wanted it to be more reflective of David and me and the way we live now.” Ivy touched the mahogany banister at the side of the staircase that led to the upper floors. “I think it came out well.”

“I'd say so,” Jackson said, looking around.

She led us into the front room, which had been completely refurbished and updated from a cramped, dark traditional Victorian interior to a bright white space with navy-blue couches and chairs around a large glass coffee table, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a sixty-five-inch HDTV mounted on the wall, an elaborate stereo system, and an enormous picture window that overlooked Orient Harbor, which was choppy on this windy day in late October. A fire blazed in the enormous fireplace, keeping the room toasty and warm.

“What a beautiful room,” I said. “It's large, but at the same time very cozy.”

“Very nice,” Jackson said.

“We like it.”

David had made himself comfortable on a couch, his injured arm in an extensive cast on top of a big pillow. Prescription-medicine bottles were on the coffee table, along with a cup of coffee, the remnants of a breakfast bagel, and copies of
Wine Spectator
,
Wine Enthusiast
, and
Decanter
magazines. The TV was on, tuned to HGTV, but David had his eyes closed, with a copy of
Wine & Spirits
magazine tented on his chest.

“Is he sleeping?” Jackson said. “Or just resting?”

“Just resting, I think,” Ivy said. “David? Jackson and Willow are here.”

David's eyes fluttered open, and he smiled at us. “My rescuers! If it hadn't been for you two and Simon, I'd still be in that vat!”

“How's the arm?” Jackson said as we took seats on the couch opposite his. Ivy left the room.

“Hurts like hell.” David reached for a bottle of pills, but tipped it over.

I reached for it and handed it to him. The label said it was oxycodone and acetaminophen, strong stuff. But sometimes, prescription medicines were absolutely necessary, especially for acute pain.

“Thanks, Willow.” He opened the bottle and popped a pill in his mouth and followed it with a sip of coffee. “I'm trying to stay awake, but these pills are kicking my ass.”

“Just go with it,” I said. “You need to respect the injury, and you've got quite a bad one. Did the doctor give you a prognosis?”

“It'll take six to eight weeks to heal, and about the same time in physical therapy to make sure I regain movement in the arm and my hand.” He wiggled his fingers at the end of the cast. “At least it's my left hand, and I'm a righty. And now I also have Jackson to protect me. Thanks, buddy, I appreciate it, really. After what happened, I just couldn't trust Scottie anymore.”

“No problem,” Jackson said. “Scott screwed up. He should have stayed with you. But hopefully we can get this all resolved pretty quickly, and things can get back to normal.”

“That would be good.” David took another sip of coffee. “Hey, what happened to Lily's uncle? Is he going to be okay?”

“We hope so,” I said. “We should know more later.”

“I'm worried about Lily. I mean, I told her last night that we should take a break, but she didn't take it well, and now this.”

“Actually,” I said, “there's more, David, so brace yourself.”

“What? What happened? Is she okay?”

“No, she's not. In fact, Lily was arrested this morning at Nature's Way for Amy's murder.”

“What? No, no way.” David tried to push himself into an upright position.

“Try to remain calm,” I said. “You've been through a lot.” I went over to him and put another pillow behind him to try to prop him up.

“I know Lily. She wouldn't hurt Amy, or anyone else. Did you call Simon and that lawyer of hers? We've got to get her out on bail. We'll pay for it.”

Ivy walked into the room. “Actually, no, David, we won't.”

“Stop it, Ivy,” David said, angry. “We have to help her. She didn't do this.”

“You don't know that, David,” Ivy snapped. “Amy might be alive if you hadn't become involved with her.”

“I know people,” David said. “Lily did not try to kill me and by mistake killed your sister instead.”

“You're not exactly objective, David, and we're not helping her. End of story.” Ivy turned and left the room.

“She can be such a bitch, and she really stresses me out. I wish I could smoke.”

“Smoking is never a good idea, especially if you're wearing a cast. You could get a blood clot.” I pulled a bottle of Dr. Bach's Rescue Remedy out of my purse and handed it to David. I always carried a spare, just in case. “Try this instead. It's a combination of five flower essences—cherry plum, clematis, impatiens, rock rose, and star-of-Bethlehem—and it's good for stressful and traumatic circumstances. Just put four drops in a glass of water or in your mouth. Repeat as needed.”

He opened the bottle and put the drops in his water glass and sipped it. “Thanks, doc, but I may need a divorce to really solve my problem.” He took another sip of the water. “Forget me. What about Lily? How are we going to get her out?”

“Don't worry,” I said. “Simon has already said that he'll pay for her bail, and all her legal fees.”

“I just don't understand why Ivy is acting this way. I mean, you can tell by looking at Lily that she's innocent. She's not thinking straight.”

“They were twins,” I said. “It makes sense that she's upset.”

“Of course, but to be honest, she and I haven't been getting along for a while now. We're just not connecting on any level, if you know what I mean.”

“We get it, David,” Jackson said. “I know it's been tough.”

“It's the money.” David reached for the glass again. “If I'd been able to invest in Pure on my own, this wouldn't be happening. It's like she holds it over my head.” He blew out a breath. “Sorry, I guess I needed to get it out.”

“That's okay, David,” I said. “We understand.”

“So what do we do to help Lily?”

Jackson got up and went over to the living-room door and looked out. “If you really want to clear her of these charges, we need some answers. Truth time, David.”

“What are you talking about? I've told you the truth.”

“Really?” I said. “Like when you said that you
weren't having an affair? And we find out that you're involved with Lily and Carla?”

“You also didn't tell us about your previous relationship with Amy, or that the Crockers tried to hire you away,” Jackson said. “If we're going to stop the attempts on your life and help Lily, you need to be straight with us from now on.”

“Okay, okay. So what is it that you want to know?”

“Let's start with your relationship with Amy Lord,” I said. “You two were engaged at one point?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“We're not sure yet,” I said. “But is it true?”

“Yes, it's true. I met Amy and Ivy out here and, later, we all ended up going to Boston University. The Lord family lived in the city, but this was their summer home when the girls were growing up, after their parents died.”

“Keep going,” Jackson said, keeping watch at the door for Ivy.

“Ivy and I were both in the School of Management, and Amy studied painting at the School of Visual Arts there—she was really good. That's one of hers there.” David pointed to a portrait above the fireplace of Ivy and Amy as young girls standing in front of cheery sunflowers in the garden, painted in the Impressionist style. Both girls had grins on their faces. “Amy and I were both really into tennis at that time. I was on the men's team and she was on the women's, and we practiced together a lot. That one-on-one time led to us becoming involved and eventually engaged. We set the date for a June wedding, but then . . . things changed.”

“What happened?” Jackson said.

“Ivy told me that Amy was pregnant and had decided to get an abortion without telling me. Ivy had proof from the clinic. I broke up with Amy after that.”

“And how did you and Ivy get involved?” I said.

“We kept in touch after my breakup with Amy, and I saw her in Boston and out here in the summer. We got together one night at a bar in town, and that was it. We were engaged the following Christmas and married after graduation.”

“How did Amy react?”

“She wasn't very happy, but eventually we all got used to it.”

“And then she got involved with Ramsey Black,” Jackson said.

David nodded. “That's common knowledge, but, yes, they got pretty serious. We all thought that he was going to propose, but then she broke it off.”