Lethal Dose of Love (8 page)

She threw him a benign smile. “Help yourself to some tea and cookies on your way out.”

Claire managed not to grin.

Sean opened his mouth and shut it several times, looking like a goldfish who’d fallen out of the bowl. He shut his mouth for the last time, turned on his heel and left.

“He’s such an ass,” Amanda whispered.

“You mean he
has
such an ass,” Felicia said. “Wonder what he wanted.”

“I don’t.” Amanda laughed and stood up. “I have to get going. Edward’s got things to do down in the boatyard so I need to man the store.” Out front, between the lattice criss-crosses, traffic flowed in a steady line and people were already filling the sidewalks. “Looks like it’s going to be a busy weekend.”

“I’ve got to be going too.” Felicia hurried after Amanda.

“Rumor has it Felicia and Sean had an affair,” Helen whispered.

“What!” Payton and Claire exclaimed at the same time.

“It’s just a rumor. And the source gives me reason to question the whole thing. I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I didn’t see her reaction for myself. She was struck just about speechless when Sean got here.”

“What’s the source of the rumor?” Claire asked.

“Sylvie saw them together in Chaumont a couple of weeks ago.”

“Sylvie’s not reliable?” Payton asked.

Helen gave an elaborate shrug. “She likes to embellish, if you know what I mean. I didn’t believe it till just now, though.”

Claire rose. “I’ve got to get to work.” She shot a wistful parting glance at the monkshood and followed Payton and Helen into the shop where several tourists were browsing.

Claire crumpled her cup and tossed it into the trash as Payton helped Helen decide which plants would be best suited to life in her new breakfast-nook-cum-sunroom. “On the driveway side—that’s where you’ll have the most sunshine—I think a tall
cussonia spicata
—”

“A what?”

“A cabbage tree. From South Africa. The natives eat the roots during times of famine.”

“What a relief to know everyone else in town could perish and we’d still have our—what did you call it?”

“
Cussonia spicata
.”

“I love the sound of the name.” Helen repeated it twice. She removed her glasses then resettled them on her nose.

“I’m sorry, but the image of cabbages hanging on the ends of the branches leaves a little to be desired,” Claire said. “I’ve got to get to the library.”

“I forgot to ask about your ankle.”

“It’s much better, thanks.”

“Are you coming with Mamie tomorrow night? She’s taking a tour of the house so she’ll be familiar with it because Monday Mr. Arenheim’s coming. I just had a thought, why not stay for dinner?”

“I’d love to. What can I bring?”

“Nothing. Just yourselves.”

“We’ll bring dessert.”

Claire climbed into her car and headed to work, little monkshood plants dancing in her head. It was here. It was accessible. Now, she just had to summon the courage to buy it.

Chapter 8

Claire couldn’t sleep. A tiny voice she could only attribute to the monkshood plant kept calling her name in a high-pitched squeak. Even when she pulled the pillows over her head and pushed her hands on both ears, the sound still penetrated. The digital clock had just clicked over to 4:22 a.m. when Claire flew to a sitting position and yelled, “Just be patient a little longer, I’m coming.” Right after that, she laughed out loud. If any neighbors heard, they might think she had a visitor.

How long was it since she’d had a man? A date? She replaced the questions with thoughts of how she’d introduce the poison to Sean. Chocolate cake. Everyone loved her cake, especially Sean. Hadn’t he said so the other day? Yes, hopefully the chocolate would cover any flavor added by the monkshood—the book didn’t say what it tasted like.

By morning, she was bleary-eyed and dopey. She staggered upright and went to look out the window, the bright sun making her blink fiercely. After two cups of coffee and the last blueberry muffin from the freezer, Claire felt ready to face the world. This might just be the biggest day of her life. She needed to be prepared. And to screw up the courage to purchase the plant.

The ankle felt better. No twinge of pain going up the steps to Payton’s shop. She stopped in the doorway letting the heady aroma of the
luculia gratissima
work its magic on her senses, just as it did in her living room on the little table beside her favorite chair. Claire sucked in another scented breath and looked for Payton. The main store was empty, but voices came from the patio area: Payton, Amanda and Felicia. Claire remained inside, ears perked in their direction.

She wandered around noticing how Payton constantly changed plants and furniture arrangements, keeping things new and interesting. Claire’s fingertips examined the crinkled leaves of a tiny peperomia. Those same fingertips carried it to the front counter. It would look nice on the table between her bedroom windows. Another trip around the shop added another
luculia gratissima
for the dining room table.

Amanda’s muffled voice said she had to be running along. Claire’s fingers examined the raised design of the Mexican windowsill planter as the three women moved toward the doorway. The planter would look wonderful over the sink. Basil, oregano, sage—the aromas would fill the kitchen.

Payton was first to enter. Not sure why, Claire ducked out of sight. “I want a visit to Payton’s Place to be one of the best and most sensual experiences a woman’s ever had.”

“What about the men?” Felicia asked.

“Men aren’t sensual creatures by nature.”

“Tell me about it!”

Payton laughed. She had a great voice, not the least bit abrasive, even when laughing. “Men are very basic. They’ll come here in a hurry because they’ve forgotten a holiday or birthday and buy something just to avoid sleeping in the dog house.”

“And they’ll tell their wives where they got it,” Amanda suggested.

“Right. But if they don’t, these little ditties will.” Payton indicated the care sheets that went with each plant.

The women passed by. Claire slipped out to the patio, stopping at the bottom step. How nice it would be to have a patio just like this, with greenery and flowers and privacy everywhere. She had the money and the space. Why hadn’t she done anything like this? Because except for her living room chair, Claire’s creature comforts weren’t something she generally put at the forefront. For years her concentration had been on the library. During the days she catalogued and filed and tried to devise more efficient ways of running the place. Nights she was consumed with thoughts of what new books the meager budget could purchase, what unique events or classes to offer.

The smell of damp soil brought back memories of childhood summers when she and her brother chased grasshoppers in the empty field across from the school.

Six hanging fuchsias graced the lattice barrier, bright tri-color flowers sprinkling drops of water every time the breeze rippled through. Claire tiptoed across the gravel and halted at the wicker patio set where the monkshood sat regally on the glass-topped table.

Her finger muscles twitched. She closed her eyes and let the plant’s aura flow into her, become part of her. After all, they were about to embark on a relationship that would change two lives. Perhaps even end them both. That notion had been wiggling around in her head like a mass of earthworms ever since she’d made the decision. She might be caught and sent to prison. Did New York State have the death penalty? She didn’t know, didn’t want to know right now. Nothing could get in the way of the plan, whatever the final outcome.

No, that was stupid. There was no reason for anyone to be caught, no reason this couldn’t be the perfect crime. Her hands spread open and then clenched shut. Claire opened her eyes and walked toward the plant. She sank into the poofy flowered cushion and pulled the plant close. From her research, Claire knew it should eventually reach more than three feet in height and would need to be put outdoors; being only eight inches tall meant it was a baby. What did they call baby plants? Seedlings? Didn’t matter right now. Being a baby, would it still have the poisonous properties of its adult counterpart? None of the books or the Internet had divulged that information. Unfortunately there was only one way to find out.

Out on the sidewalk, on the other side of the latticework enclosure, Felicia and Amanda stopped a half dozen feet from where Claire sat. The wind pushed Amanda’s words into the patio. “I feel like sinking Sean’s boat…with him in it.”

“I know what you mean,” Felicia replied.

“Trouble is, I’d be the first suspect.”

“I doubt that.”

“I can’t believe I let him talk me into paying fifteen thousand for that painting.”

Claire recalled the yacht club meeting at the marina two days ago. As they’d been ushered into the marina store, Amanda introduced them to a painting of Commodore Melancthon Brooks Woolsey hanging behind the cash register. She’d bought it for Edward’s birthday; he was a history buff. “When Edward finds out what I paid, he’ll kill me.”

“No he won’t because when Brighton finds out what I paid for
Sunset
he’ll kill me, and Edward will be busy comforting my husband.” Felicia gave a harsh chuckle. “We should make a bet as to who gets it first.”

“Don’t joke like that.”

Felicia sighed. “I wasn’t joking.” She switched the red plastic shopping bag from one hand to the other. “What if Sean finds out you haven’t told Edward what you paid?”

“I don’t even want to think about that. God, I hate that man.”

Claire sighed and let her eyes rove to the monkshood plant. Who would believe such a beauty could be so lethal? Behind the innocent façade beat the heart of a monster. Two-faced, that’s what it was. Just like people. You never knew what was behind their smiling faces. There was a song about smiling faces. Who sang it? Some group from back in the 80’s. Claire couldn’t think who it was. She slapped her thigh. She should be able to recall such things.

What if, instead of buying the plant, she plucked off the necessary number of leaves? Surely no one would notice missing leaves. Even the sap was poisonous. If she got any on her skin…

She picked up the pot and went inside.

“Claire!” Payton said. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I’ve been sitting on your comfy patio furniture. Almost took myself a nap.”

“Ready for the yacht race?”

“My stopwatch is all polished. I hope the weather holds.”

“I’ve been watching the forecast very closely. They said it might rain tomorrow morning for a while.”

“It wouldn’t dare. Are you sailing with Helen and Carter?”

“Just for a couple of practice races. The extra weight will slow them down, so I don’t want to be a hindrance. Carter said it didn’t matter, but still…”

“Are you buying Aden’s boat?”

“Yes, well, I am thinking about buying
Zephyr
. If I can find a partner, that is. Are these yours?” She gestured at the plants on the counter.

“Yes. And this, too.” Claire set down the monkshood.

“Did you read the tag?
Aconitum napella
is quite poisonous.”

Claire perched a frown between her eyes and backed a step away from the counter, feigning fear. “Really?”

Payton laughed. “If you don’t have children, cats or dogs, it won’t be any trouble.”

“I don’t like pets. They make too much mess.”

“I like pets. One of these days I’ll get a dog or a cat. Maybe two.” She pointed at the monkshood. “I’ve sold quite a number of these little fellows. As a matter of fact, Felicia and Amanda each just bought one.”

“Really?” Was the delight in her voice noticeable? She quickly hid the elation behind a giggle. “Sorry, I’m having a hard time picturing Felicia with a plant. I can’t imagine her putting her hands in dirt.”

Payton giggled. “She’s got a gardener. What are you bringing to the potluck before the race?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“I’m making a tossed salad. I can’t mess that up too badly.”

This was the second time Payton lamented her cooking skills. Claire felt a little dread about tomorrow’s dinner invitation.

“Felicia’s bringing ham salad sandwiches,” Payton said. “Amanda’s decided not to make her famous macaroons, she’s doing chocolate cake instead. She’s using the recipe from The Galley’s cookbook.”

This was a terrible turn of events. When Sean died from chocolate cake poisoning Amanda would be the first suspect.

The door opened and Sylvie stepped inside, turning in two circles before stopping in front of the counter. “Nice shop,” she announced. She looked past Claire to Payton. “It’s my sister’s birthday. I thought a plant might be a perfect gift.”

“Does she have plants now?”

“Her husband calls their house a botanical garden.”

“Good, that gives us a place to start. Come with me.”

Not knowing exactly why, Claire followed them to the patio. Payton picked up a magnificent bird of paradise. “What about this?”

“Is it easy to grow?”