Garden of Death (7 page)

chapter seven

Willow McQuade's
Favorite Medicinal Plants

CALENDULA:

Botanical name:
Calendula officinalis

Medicinal uses: Calendula is a hardy, long-blooming plant with radiant yellow flowers that will brighten your garden. But there's more. Calendula also has amazing healing properties. Antiseptic and anti-
inflammatory, this flower helps to promote cell repair and growth. You'll find calendula in many items at your health food store such as lotions, salves, and creams that treat everything from cuts and scrapes to insect bites, varicose veins, and athlete's foot. Calendula also is a nourishing and cleansing tonic for the lymphatic system, which helps to improve immunity. It also aids digestion, helps to ease throat infections, and is used in children's ear drops. Inside the body and on the skin, this is a helpful herb that speeds healing and improves health.

Since we were all working late, I closed the store for an hour so we could eat together. After we were finished, we worked on getting Nature's Way ready for the Green Light tour and the workshop on how to plant a healing garden. This involved moving the tables in the dining area and putting out delectable gluten-free chocolate cake and organic lemonade. But now it was past eight and no one had shown up.

“I can't believe this is happening,” I said to Jackson. “When we sold out today in the booth, I figured that we would be busy tonight.”

“But things were slow in here today, Willow,” Merrily said. “I think we only had three or four tables. They're all out there eating clam chowder and pizza and hot dogs.”

“Plus, Peter Tork, you know, from the Monkees, is giving a concert on the green,” Wallace said.

I looked around the empty store. “Well, nothing is happening here, so if you want to go to the concert, you can,” I said. “Have fun. You worked hard today.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, go. Merrily, you can go, too. Check out the concert and enjoy the rest of the festival.”

“Great, thanks. Now I can go meet Nate,” Merrily said, and grabbed her purse from under the counter. “I'll come in early to clean this up. Hopefully the cops will be gone by then, and you can start giving tours of your garden again.” She came over and gave me a hug.

“I hope so. Thanks, Merrily.”

Simon went over to the cake table. He ran every morning, which is why he could eat whatever he wanted, and he took full advantage of this fact. “Since
the party isn't happening, I think I'll get a cup of coffee and a piece of that cake to go, if that's all right. I'm going to go home and try to write. The caffeine will help keep me awake.”

“Enjoy,” I said. “I hope the writing goes well. As for this workshop, I'll just have to reschedule for another night.”

Jackson squeezed my hand and gave me a sympathetic look. “It's not your fault. When things like this happen, people stay away. It's not like with Claire when there was some question about how she died. It's obvious that the man was murdered. Someone knocked him on the head, in broad daylight in Greenport, during the Maritime Festival, when fifty thousand-plus people are in town. Word spreads fast.”

•   •   •

I brought in the green
lantern, closed up Nature's Way, and we went for an evening stroll with the dogs. The band was tuning up on the stage in the park, and the audience was finding seats on beach chairs and blankets on the circle of grass that faced them.

The sunny day had cooled into night and a fresh, salty breeze drifted from the bay across the green. It was almost cool, and I was glad that I had brought along a light sweater.

We headed north on Main Street to do our window shopping, since that's where most of the art galleries and boutiques were. We followed the green lanterns
to the end of the block, taking in paintings, sculptures, drawings, mosaics, and stained glass. There were still plenty of tourists and locals crowding the streets. I thought I knew why they had stayed away from my store, and it didn't feel good.

When we walked up to the Tolle Gallery, we found Harold and Maggie inside, talking to Rhonda Rhodes and her partner, Ramona Meadows. The two women were in their early fifties and recently retired from practicing law in the city. For phase two of their lives, they dreamed of opening a retail garden center and had also applied for the lot. Right now, there was only one place in town to buy flowers, a small florist's shop that sold exotic flowers. Things were okay between us but I knew that they, too, were disappointed about not getting the space.

Ramona spotted me, excused herself, and came to the door. A pretty redhead, she wore a shift dress with a flower pattern and orange Crocs, the shoe of choice on the East End in the summer. “I heard about what happened on your garden tour. Wow, are you two okay?” She leaned down and began to pet the three dogs.

“I think so,” I said. “But it was a terrible thing to find. I just feel bad for Dr. White's family.”

“I feel sorry for his son,” Ramona said. “He's in his twenties, teaches at City College, and he's a decent guy. But White and his wife were on the verge of divorce. She might not be all that broken up about it.”

“I didn't know that.” I couldn't help wondering if maybe his wife was the one who wanted White dead. If money was the issue, would she get a better settlement as a widow than as a divorcée?

“What about your garden tours?” Ramona asked. “Is that all off now? That would be a shame.”

Rhonda, trim, with short, cropped strawberry-blond hair, and also wearing a shift, came to the door. “Ramona, who are you talking to? I want to show you something.” She saw us, and said, “Oh, it's you.”

“I'll be in soon.” Ramona watched her go then said, “Don't mind her. She just really wanted to build that garden center.”

“I'm sure you can find a spot that's just as good,” Jackson said.

“You'd think so, Jackson, but it's not that easy with the zoning laws. And not everyone wants a garden center with all of that traffic as a neighbor. You got lucky, Willow. I hope you appreciate that.”

“With everything that's happened, I don't feel very lucky right now,” I admitted. “But I know what you mean. So what are you going to do?”

“For the time being, we're leasing land from the Coventry Cooperative in Southold, and selling our veggies at the farmer's market with Kylie Ramsey. She's done an amazing job with the market, and we do really well there. You should come by. We've got some great stuff you could sell at the store, unusual organic produce, like celtuce.”

Jackson grinned. “Is that a cross between celery and lettuce?”

“You sound skeptical,” Ramona said, smiling. “You should try it.”

“I will,” I said. “You sell wholesale, right?”

Ramona nodded. “Sure. Why don't you come by tomorrow? We've got a lot of produce that might do
well in Nature's Way.”

“Sorry, tomorrow won't work,” I said. “We're going to be fixing the damage to the garden from today.”

“All those cops trampling your plants,” Ramona said sympathetically. She glanced inside the gallery, and Rhonda waved her over. “Well, I'd better go. Maybe we'll see you at the market?”

“I'll do my best.” As she walked away, I said, “Well, Ramona seems pretty reasonable about everything,
but did Rhonda seem pissed off at me—or was I imagining it?”

“Rhonda didn't actually say much,” Jackson reminded me. “Still, I'd say she and Ramona obviously wanted the lot very badly. So I don't know if they'd do anything actively hostile, but right now, I wouldn't consider them friends. Rhonda may be yet another sore loser. Greenport seems to be full of them.”

“Let's go home,” I said, suddenly exhausted. I hated thinking that half the people in town were potential enemies. I started walking back down Main Street, but stopped as Qigong sniffed the grass around a telephone pole. Columbo and Rockford quickly joined in.

Jackson took my hand. “When we get home, I'll draw you a nice, hot bath. You can put your aromatherapy stuff in it—lavender or whatever—and you'll feel better.”

“That sounds comforting, which is just what I need. Thanks, Jackson.”

We continued past the two-story white building that housed the East End Historical Society, and the Arcade department store parking lot. I loved
Greenport, but the town was becoming an increasingly uncomfortable place to live. “All I can think is that getting the lot has caused nothing but trouble,” I said. “White is dead, business is off, everyone is upset, and no one likes me. Worst of all, you may be a suspect in his death. I think I may have made a mistake in going after the lot.”

Jackson gave me a swift, sweet kiss. “Don't even waste your time thinking that way, because there's nothing you can do about it now.”

I shook my head, wondering if I would ever be able to feel good about the garden again. “You're right about that.”

•   •   •

When we got home, the
police were still working in the garden. Thanks to the big klieg lights, we could still watch most of what was happening with the binoculars. They had moved out from the area where White's body was found and were now searching other sections. I wondered if they had found anything so far, and if so—what?

I decided to take Jackson's advice and take a hot bath. I added my favorite organic lavender and lemon balm bath salts and settled in for a nice, long soak.

A little while later, Jackson came in, got undressed, and slipped into the oversized tub. We kissed, hungry for each other, perhaps even more so now, since so much had changed in the past twenty-four hours. But making love in a tub isn't easy, so we soon switched to shower mode. Afterward, feeling clean and satisfied, we
got dressed, me in my T-shirt and undies, him in his sweats, no shirt.

Our evening routine was to read before we went to sleep while the dogs and cats snoozed next to us, and tonight was no different. I settled into bed and picked up my copy of Agatha Christie's classic mystery
Body in the Library
, while Jackson grabbed Michael Connelly's latest. I felt safe and secure, and pushed out of my mind any thought of tomorrow.

We stayed like that for about an hour, after which Jackson closed his book, took mine, and put them on the nightstand. “I want to tell you something.” He pulled me close and I snuggled into his body and his warmth.

“What is it?” I asked warily. “I really don't want to think about tomorrow.”

“I know, but I have to say it. I agreed to rigorous honesty in AA, and I abide by it.”

I nodded, understanding.

“It isn't like you to have second thoughts,” Jackson began. “Not when you were so sure about your decision to apply for the lot and all the work that you did to get it. Even though some bad things have happened, it doesn't mean that you were wrong or that you made a mistake.” He gave me a gentle kiss. “Try to separate yourself from what's happening and what people say, and listen to yourself. You created this garden—”

“With your help, and Nate's.”

“We helped, yes, but you've been the driving force all along. This was your idea, your baby. You can't turn away from it now.”

“I know,” I said, and kissed him back. I did know
he was right, but I felt so weary. As if this wonderful idea of mine had turned into a hike up the Himalayas, instead of a walk in the park.

Ginger woke up, stretched, and changed position, right above Jackson's head, and began to purr loudly. He gently picked her up and put her back on the foot of the bed, and snuggled next to me again.

“I wonder what Aunt Claire would say about all this if she were still here. Would she have applied for the lot, like I did?”

“Definitely, Claire was a sharp businesswoman, I guarantee that she would not have ignored this opportunity, even if it meant ruffling some village feathers. You were meant to do this, Willow. It's going to work out. Trust me.”

chapter eight

Willow McQuade's
Favorite Medicinal Plants

CHAMOMILE

Botanical name:
Chamaemelum nobile
(Roman chamomile, syn.
Anthemis nobilis
),
Matricaria recutita
(German chamomile, formerly
Chamomilla recutita
, syn.
M. chamomilla
)

Medicinal uses: Since the times of ancient Greece, both types of chamomile have been used medicinally in the same ways. Tiny but mighty, chamomile is rich in nerve- and muscle-relaxing nutrients such as calcium, magnesium, potassium, and B vitamins that help promote relaxation, easing stress and anxiety, encouraging the movement of chi or good energy, and promoting sleep. It is has also been approved in many countries to treat inflammation, indigestion, muscle spasms, and infection.

Sleep did not come easily, and I woke up just about every hour. While Jackson and our animals snoozed, I grabbed the binoculars and padded over to the window. The cops were still in the garden. It seemed that they were moving in a grid pattern, so when I woke up at 2 a.m., they were working around the anti-inflammatory plants. An hour or so later, I spotted them working the ground in the analgesic plants area. I worried that with every step they were destroying what Jackson, Nate, and I had worked so hard to build.

Finally, at 4:30 a.m., I heard several cars start up on the street. I went to the window and looked out, and the garden was finally dark. For now, the cops were gone. After that, I fell into a deep sleep.

On Sunday morning, we got out of bed at seven. I skipped my usual morning meditation and yoga practice, threw on shorts and a Nature's Way T-shirt, and headed out to the garden, fearful of what I might find there. The morning air felt dewy, soft, and salty. Out in the harbor, deckhands on one of the tall ships were raising their flag. The Shelter Island ferry headed for the Greenport dock, leaving whipped-cream waves in its wake. Early risers were out strolling in Mitchell Park and walking their dogs.

When Jackson and I walked up to the garden gate, the yellow crime-scene tape was gone. “So that's it,” I said, “They're done investigating.”

“In the garden maybe, but I'm sure Koren will be back to talk to us—me, specifically. My prints are on
that shovel. I wasn't wearing gloves.”

“That doesn't mean that you killed White.”

“Of course not, but you and I both know that we're in for round two with Detective Koren.” Jackson pushed open the gate. “But for now, let's see what the garden looks like.”

I sucked in a breath. “I'm really worried about what we might find.”

“Hopefully, it's not another dead body.”

I gave him a look. “That is not funny.”

He put his arm around me. “Whatever we find, we'll fix it, don't worry.”

At first glance, it seemed as if the police had been careful; the damage looked minimal. But as we went from section to section and plant to plant, we saw footprints all over the beds, torn leaves, smashed plants, and broken branches. If my garden had been a painting, it was as if someone had splattered red paint across my beautiful creation. I felt like crying.

“Steady, Willow,” Jackson said as he pulled me into a hug. “We can fix all of this. Nate will be here soon and the three of us will go through it section by section, plant by plant, and prune, replant, replace, and water. If we're not done by the time we open at noon, I'll keep working with Nate while you start the tours. They can see us in action.”

•   •   •

We decided to begin working
in the cardiology area,
since that's where Dr. White had died and where investigators had spent most of their time. Here, plants were uprooted and leaves ragged from handling. The path was also a mess; most of the cedar chips were gone. We had a lot of work to do.

I pulled on my gardening gloves and grabbed my favorite pair of shears. “I knew Koren didn't like me, but this is ridiculous.”

“He's trying to find a killer, Willow,” Jackson gently reminded me. “I really don't think it's personal.”

“You're right, but the sooner this is fixed and yesterday is erased, the better.”

“Agreed.” Jackson kissed me and headed to the potting shed. “I'll get a couple of new bags of mulch for the walkway while you figure out what needs to be done.” While I surveyed the damage, Jackson brought over a bag of cedar mulch, split the bag with his pocket knife, and poured it over the area in and around the cardiology plants. Immediately, the smell of cedar filled the air. “Hmmm, that smells really good. It's almost like aromatherapy.”

Jackson smiled. “I like it, too. Maybe I should get some cedar aftershave.”

“Then you'll smell like mulch.”

“That won't work. I'll have to think of something else to get your motor going.”

I smiled at him. “I have faith in you. You'll think of something.”

He put the bag down, came over to me, pulled me close, and gave me a good, long kiss. We had been together for a year and a half and it still felt new and electric between us.

We were interrupted by Nate. “Hey, guys, uh, sorry.”

“No problem, Nate,” Jackson said, “Help me get the rest of the mulch to repair the path.”

While they worked on the pathway, I turned my attention to the plants. The foxglove bush that Dr. White had been lying behind was completely uprooted, but it would survive. I replanted it, added organic fertilizer, and watered it thoroughly. “Guys, I'm going to need mulch around this plant, too.”

Nate grabbed a bag of mulch and came over and gently spread it around the plant. The three of us worked together and very quickly, things began to look better.

But as usual, when one thing goes right, another can go wrong. Or as the fourth-century Taoist sage Chuang Tzu said, life is ten thousand joys and ten thousand sorrows. An hour later as I was working in the section that featured plants for mental and emotional well-being, such as St. John's wort for mild to moderate depression and kava-kava for anxiety, Detectives Koren and Coyle returned.

“We need to talk to you two,” Koren said as he walked up to me. He was wearing a black suit and a tie with a geometric black-and-white pattern, while Coyle wore a rumpled brown linen suit and a tie with a golfer on it. He really needed some of Koren's fashion savvy.

Jackson had just finished spreading the mulch two sections over. He saw the detectives, put the bag down, said something to Nate, and came over to us. “What is it now, Koren?”

“The autopsy results are in. Dr. White died from massive head trauma to the front of his skull, delivered
by your shovel. Big surprise, your prints are all over the handle.”

For a moment, I couldn't breathe, and the world began to spin. I felt myself heading for the ground, but Jackson noticed my reaction and grabbed me before I could fall. “It's okay, Willow,” he said, his voice steadying me. “Yes, I told you that I used the shovel to replace a plant,” Jackson told the detectives, his tone was calm and confident. “I wasn't wearing gloves. I'm sure that mine wasn't the only set of prints on it either.”

“No, you're right, they weren't,” Detective Koren admitted. “Let's go over your movements again.”

Jackson sighed. “As I already told you, I replaced the damaged digitalis plant just before 11 a.m. Then I went out to Front Street to watch the parade with Willow.”

“And you, Ms. McQuade? You were at your plant stand before the parade, right?”

“Right. I was working with Wallace Bryan and Nate Marshall, who is over there.” I pointed to Nate, who was getting something out of the potting shed.

“Okay, Spade, so you're saying that Dr. White came in after you left and so did the person who killed him? That's a lot of activity for you not to notice.”

“Normally, maybe,” I said. “But the parade passed by in front of the garden, and as you know, since you were there, it was quite loud. It would have been really easy for anyone to get into the garden from the other side, on Adams Street. They would just have to hop the fence.”

“Yeah, I tried that,” Detective Coyle said. “It wasn't exactly easy, but it could be done.”

“There you have it, Detectives. Can we finish our repairs to the garden?” Jackson looked at Detective Koren. “We still have a lot to do before Willow can open up again.”

“Your people weren't exactly careful in here,” I said. “They did a lot of damage.”

“Too bad,” Detective Coyle said. “It's a crime scene, Ms. McQuade. We're trying to find a killer.”

“Calm down, Coyle,” Detective Koren said. “We're sorry about any inconvenience you may have experienced.”

“That sounds real sincere,” Jackson said. “Now can we get back to work?”

“For now,” Detective Koren said. “But don't leave town.”

“Me, leave? I'd miss you too much.”

“Knock it off, Spade,” Koren said. “And stay local.”

“Yeah, we're watching you,” Coyle said.

As they walked away I said, “You shouldn't aggravate Koren. He wants you to slip up.”

Jackson grinned. “I know, but he just makes it so easy. Let's get busy, McQuade.”

I finished up the section I was working on and moved on to the next one. Once I was on a roll, the process seemed to go faster, and with every repair I made, I felt as if I was getting my life back in order, too.

Two hours later, around nine-thirty that morning, I took a break and went inside to get us something to drink. I found Wallace and Merrily slammed with a full house inside and out, and no Simon.

I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. Since Merrily desperately needed peppers, artisan cheeses,
fresh bread, and eggs, someone needed to go to the farmer's market. I called Simon and got his voice message: “
I'm where my muse takes me. Do what you do
.” The phone beeped.

“Simon, it's Willow. You need to put your muse on hold. I need your help at Nature's Way
now
. Call me!”

“I really need that stuff, Willow, especially the bread,” Merrily said, looking worried. “Otherwise, we won't have sandwiches.”

It seemed that I didn't have a choice. Jackson and Nate would have to work without me for a while. The garden didn't open again until noon, so we had time. “I'll go. Give me the list.”

After I brought some fresh-squeezed organic lemonade and buttered blueberry muffins to Jackson and Nate in the garden, I took one for myself and headed over to the farmer's market. It wouldn't take long and, to be honest, I needed some time alone to get my head straight about all that had happened. Koren hadn't taken Jackson down to the station, but it didn't mean that he wouldn't be back.

Their visit had jolted me into realizing that I had to stop feeling sorry for myself and find the killer. And that was exactly what I was going to do.

•   •   •

The farmer's market was held
each Saturday and Sunday morning in the parking lot behind the church annex on Main Street. Vendors set up trim, white tents, where they offered everything from gourmet coffee, hummus, and Moroccan condiments, to sunflowers, zinnias, and goat cheese.

I decided that since I was here, I'd check out Ramona and Rhonda's produce, and more important, ask some questions about the case. For all I knew, they might know something or even be suspects. But before I could get that far, I spotted my wannabe waiter.

Simon was wearing a navy Izod shirt, white linen shorts, boat shoes, and Prada sunglasses. He looked ready to step onto a yacht. I watched as he chatted up the girl at the Honeybee Yum! booth. I walked up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. “Did you get my message?”

He whipped around. “Willow! Leah, this is Willow. She's the one I was talking about. She runs Nature's Way in town.”

“Nice to meet you, Leah. Simon, can I talk to you for a moment, please?”

He pushed his sunglasses onto the top of head and smiled. “Something going on with the case?”

I pulled him away from the booth. “No, you were supposed to help us out at the store this morning, and now we're super busy.”

“That's good,” Simon said.

“Where were you?”

“I couldn't make it down because the muse was calling me. I think it had something to do with that murder. It got my juices going again last night. I couldn't type fast enough. I mean, the ideas were flowing! I got up early this morning and kept going. I feel reborn.”

“So, now that you're not blocked, you don't want to be a waiter anymore?” Good, old Simon—reliable and a good friend one minute and completely self-involved
and oblivious the next.

“Hell, no! I've got to keep writing! I just came down here to pick up some of my favorite java to give me a caffeine fix and then I'm back at it.” He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “However, I do still want to help you with the case.”

“That's something, at least,” I said. So, while I picked up bread and cheese, I told him everything that had happened and my plan to talk to Ramona and Rhonda again.

“You might want to talk to Kylie again, too. She's here and she's been chatting it up with this chick who I think is selling something here, too. Maybe she's that friend who was a patient of Dr. White.”

“That would be too easy.”

“They were up there.” He gestured to the right. “Talking at the info table.”

I glanced that way and spotted Kylie, but she was sitting alone at the table, which was covered with leaflets, talking on her cell phone.

“I don't see the friend, Simon.”

“She was just there. Let's take a walk around and we can look for them.”

We circled the lot, looking for Kylie's friend and Ramona and Rhonda. We found the couple's booth first, at the back of the lot off Carpenter Street, although no one was behind the table. The banner above read: Ramona and Rhonda Heirloom Veggies: The Most Unique Produce on the North Fork! While we waited for someone to show up, I checked out the produce, which looked fresh and delicious. I knew that I'd bring some of it home to Merrily.