25

I kept my pace brisk as I strode through the castle gardens. The lush greenery, colourful blooms, and sweet scents soothed me and provided a brief respite from my racing thoughts. Assuming the pathologist was punctual, Theresa’s autopsy was already underway. I wasn’t likely to hear from Liam for another couple of hours. I was itching to know how Theresa had died, and patience wasn’t my strong suit.

After I emerged from the herb gardens, I stepped onto the path that wound by the ornamental pond. I rounded a curve and stopped dead. Beth and Luke stood in front of the water, standing close and whispering earnestly to one another. Their body language screamed of an uneasy reconciliation following a bust-up. Bar turning back, which I wasn’t prepared to do, there was no way to avoid them seeing me. I swallowed a groan and kept moving.

Luke spotted me before my sister did. He took a step back from her, in that awkward way people did when someone interrupted a tense exchange between lovers. “Hi, Maggie. How are you feeling today?”

“Better than Theresa Crawley. I guess you guys know she didn’t make it.”

Luke’s handsome face clouded. “Yeah, we heard. Con told us this morning.”

My sister had, thus far, remained silent. Now, she raised her head as though moving in slow motion. “It’s so sad.” The words sounded perfunctory and mechanical. Beth’s mind was elsewhere. What, exactly, had I interrupted between her and Luke?

Luke semi-answered that question for me. He placed a hand on Beth’s lower back and propelled her toward me. “You had something to say to Maggie. Right, babe?”

My sister murmured something inaudible but didn’t meet my eye.

The bodyguard gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and nodded to me. “I’ll leave you ladies to it.”

Ignoring his girlfriend’s squawk of protest, Luke strode off in the direction of the castle. After his tall figure disappeared into the herb garden, my sister and I stared at one another in awkward silence.

In spite of my irritation with her, I hated seeing her distressed. Maybe it was time to talk to her, one on one. I patted the pocket that contained the key to the Poison Garden. “Want to walk with me?”

“Yeah. Sure. I guess.” Beth moved a strand of hair behind her ear in a quick, nervous gesture.

The tension that hummed along my jawline intensified. “I’m not going to force you to hang out with me. I have to check stuff out. Either come with me or don’t.” Leaving my sister quivering with indecision, I followed the path to the walled garden.

“Wait for me.”

Beth jogged after me and matched my pace. She scarcely appeared to notice when I led the way over to the wrought iron gate. I turned the handle. Today, the entrance to the Poison Garden was securely locked. Nodding in approval, I inserted the old key into the lock and opened the gate.

We’d taken several steps inside when my sister finally snapped out of her daze. “You look tired, Maggie.”

She wasn’t looking too well-rested, either. The gray shadows smudged beneath her eyes looked like nature, not makeup, and her skin was pulled tight across her face.

“I’d be more tired if you hadn’t let me have your bed,” I admitted grudgingly. “Thanks.”

Beth drew in a breath, then blurted, “I’m sorry, Maggie. I want to apologize for yesterday.”

“For what part?” I shot back. “There are so many lovely moments to choose from.” Ouch. Why did my mouth engage before my brain? I should’ve taken the proffered olive branch and made my peace.

My sister’s cheeks flushed a becoming shade of pink. “I should’ve let you ride back to the castle with Luke and me after we finished shooting that scene yesterday.”

“I got back in one piece.” I continued moving down the garden path, forcing her to jog to keep up.

“I need to explain. You see, Luke and I had a massive fight just before filming started. I needed to talk to him in private, and the journey back to the castle seemed the only opportunity we’d have that day.” She bit her lip. “When you asked to ride with us, I spoke without thinking. I was fixated on needing to talk to him, and at that moment, I didn’t remember your injured arm. I know it’s a poor excuse—”

“It is,” I interjected, not willing to give her an inch, even if she had let me borrow her bed.

“—but, I’m truly sorry.”

Fueled by irritation, I increased my pace, drawing us deeper into the Poison Garden. It only took a few steps for curiosity to get the better of me. “What was the fight about?”

Beth’s cheeks grew even redder. “Luke was upset I’m spending so much time with Judd.”

“Is that so?” I eyed her thoughtfully. “Is he right to be upset?”

My sister’s china-blue eyes widened. “Of course not. Nothing is going on between Judd and me.”

“Are you sure about that? You two seem mighty friendly.”

“For heaven’s sake, Maggie.” Her outrage sounded genuine. “I know I’ve had bad taste in the past, but I’m not a total fool where men are concerned. I wouldn’t trust Judd to pick up my mail, never mind anything else. The guy’s a player.”

“He’s a complete tool,” I agreed. “And way shorter than he looks in his movies.”

A giggle escaped Beth’s rigid self-control. Her shoulders relaxed a bit. “Judd’s face when you insulted him yesterday was priceless. I wish I’d had a camera on me.”

“Yeah…I should’ve kept my trap shut, but I was annoyed.”

“With me,” my sister said, filling in the words I’d left unsaid. She sighed. “As it happened, taking you with us in the golf cart would’ve been the smarter move. All Luke and I did was fight the whole way back to the castle.”

“I’m sorry you guys aren’t getting along. I like Luke. He’s a good guy.”

“He’s the best.” A wistful look crept over her face. “Many would say he’s a keeper.”

I arched an eyebrow. “But you don’t?”

“No, he is keeper material. There are no pretenses about Luke. The more time I spend on a movie set, the more I appreciate that about him. Most people here are so…artificial. Like, they’ll smile and be polite to my face, but I know they don’t mean it.”

“From what I understand, you haven’t exactly gone out of your way to make friends.”

Beth fiddled with her fingers, twisting the sapphire ring she’d inherited from our maternal grandmother. That episode had caused friction between us following our grandmother’s death. My sister had always been Grandma’s favorite. I resented her leaving the ring to my sister more than I begrudged Beth the ring itself.

As if sensing she’d reminded me of that tense chapter, my sister ceased fiddling and dropped her hands to her sides. “I haven’t been myself since we started filming. I have a lot going on and, well, I guess it’s made me short-tempered.”

“I suppose making a movie is stressful.”

Beth nodded, her face tense. “Yes, but it’s not the only thing keeping me awake at night.”

“Luke?” I guessed. “How does he feel about Con wanting to keep your relationship a secret? Doesn’t that add to his jealousy over Judd?”

“It doesn’t help, that’s for sure.”

“Then why keep up the pretense? Wouldn’t it be easier all round to be honest with people and say you guys are an item?”

She sighed. “Con says a single actress is a better sell to the press and leaves the door open for rumors of a romance between Judd and me.”

I screwed up my nose. “Would you go along with that?”

“Not to the extent of having a fake relationship with the guy,” she said, “but rumors are all we need to get some media love.”

A vision of slimy Judd danced before my eyes. “So gross. I’m glad I’m not a Hollywood star.”

“I’m not a star.” A muscle in her jaw twitched and her voice held a forlorn note. “Not yet. And if this movie doesn’t get made, I’ll never be.”

“The movie will get made,” I reassured her, my big sister instincts overtaking my annoyance. “Too many people have too much riding on it not to push ahead.”

“But one of the extras died,” she wailed. “And her death might not be natural. Did you see the way she convulsed before she collapsed? What if the whole set closes down, and we have to delay filming?”

I stifled a smile. My sister thrived on sleeping late and working whenever it suited her—a perk to being a self-employed beauty influencer. “This movie’s good for you. You’ve finally embraced a work ethic.”

Beth’s eyes flashed in anger. “I’ve always had a work ethic, Maggie. Just because I haven’t had a nine-to-five job in a few years doesn’t mean I don’t work hard.”

“I’m sorry. I just meant it was nice seeing you be so determined that the movie shoot stays on schedule.” 

“I need it to stay on schedule.” The haunted look returned. “What does Liam say? Does he think Theresa’s death was deliberate?”

“He’s still waiting on the pathologist’s report. Until then, we won’t know for sure.”

My sister cast me an exasperated look. “Please, Maggie. We both know it’ll say she was murdered.”

“If you think Theresa was murdered, then why? And how did the killer do it?”

“Poison,” my sister said without hesitation. “And the killer meant to murder me.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to contradict her, but then I cast my mind back to Coco’s drinks party. Beth had stood right beside Theresa when she’d knocked back those shots. My sister had also served herself from the same tray. My limbs were jittery and cold all of a sudden. A cramp twisted my stomach in a painful reminder of just how much fried food I’d consumed during lunch. No matter how hard I tried to block it, I wasn’t able to shake the image of my sister collapsing instead of Theresa.

“If Theresa was poisoned,” I began slowly, “then a killer wouldn’t need to look far to find a suitable weapon. We’re currently standing among some of the deadliest plants on the planet.”

Beth’s eyes widened. She spun around in a circular motion, scanning the garden as though registering where she was for the first time. “We’re in the Poison Garden?”

“Yeah. See the little white signs next to each plant? You don’t come across this many poisonous flowers in your average backyard.

My sister clutched at her throat. “Are they poisonous to inhale?”

I resisted the urge to snap at her. “No, Beth. If they were, we wouldn’t be allowed in here. Didn’t you read the warning sign on the gate?”

“I didn’t even notice where we were going, Maggie.” She dropped her hands to her sides and stared at me. “Why? What did it say?”

“To not touch any of the plants, and that anyone caught stealing cuttings would be prosecuted.”

Beth’s breathless laugh bordered on hysteria. “How would anyone know who stole a plant, or a part of a plant? Are there surveillance cameras in here?”

Good question, and one I hadn’t thought to ask Noel Tate. I made a mental note to rectify that oversight later. “I don’t know, but I’ll check.”

We reached the bench I’d sat on yesterday, and my sister slumped against it. Her terrified eyes pinned me in place. “What do you think the killer used? Was Theresa’s food poisoned?” Horror suffused her face. “Oh, my goodness. Coco’s shots.”

“The drinks are one possibility, yes,” I admitted. “In fact, that’s why I came to the Poison Garden. I want to take another look at the plants to see if any look like they’ve had a part cut away recently.” I indicated an area behind the bench. “The belladonna in the corner is as good a place to start as any.”

 Beth shivered and hugged herself. “If the poison was in one of the shot glasses, any of us could’ve died. I could’ve died.”

The corners of my mouth twitched. Yep. My sister was back to thinking of herself. “You weren’t the only person at Coco’s drinks party. Half the people on the set must’ve been there.”

I walked around my sister and scrutinized the patch of belladonna—or deadly nightshade, as it was also known. It looked as deceptively innocent as it had yesterday. Due to the unreliable connection, my brief internet search on poisonous plants hadn’t proven particularly enlightening. However, I’d learned that belladonna’s leaves and roots were toxic all year round, and its berries were deadly when ripe. I peered into one of the purple flowers. A green bud was visible, not yet the rich, black berry that it would become within a few weeks. 

I got out my phone and dictated a couple of quick notes. While I examined the plants, my sister continued to babble. “Maybe they weren’t trying to kill Theresa. I was standing next to her when she drank the shots. I could’ve picked up the shot that killed her.”

“Judd was also there,” I reminded her, “as was half the cast and crew. How would a killer administer the poison without being seen?”

“Maybe it was added when Coco and Merry prepared the shots.”

“You think one of them killed Theresa?”

“No.” She paced back and forth, beating a restless tattoo on the ground. “I don’t know what to think.”

“Assuming Theresa was poisoned by the shots, the poison might’ve been added while Coco and Merry mixed the drinks, which would point to one of them as the poisoner. Or one of the guests slipped the poison into Theresa’s shot glass without anyone noticing. Or an entire tray of shots was poisoned.”

“What?” Beth stared at me. “I’m finding it hard to keep up with your train of thought.”

“It’s more of a runaway train at the moment,” I admitted. “The poison could’ve been put into a glass before the party started. Or during the party with Theresa’s shots being a particular target. Or to a tray of shots while they were still on the big table at the start of the party. Does that make more sense?”

She screwed up her nose. “Kind of? Are you saying the entire tray of shots on our table was poisoned?”

“I have no idea. I assume all the glasses went straight into a dishwasher after the party, so we may never know.”

Beth considered this for a moment. “Your theory about the whole tray being poisoned makes more sense than just one glass. If Theresa was the intended victim, her killer wouldn’t know which glass she’d choose.”

“And if she wasn’t the target,” I added, “and the killer simply wanted to cause mayhem on the set, poisoning the entire tray could’ve led to several deaths and not just the one.”

“How did no one notice someone tampering with the drinks?” my sister asked. “Movie folks love to gossip, and I haven’t heard a peep about funny business near the shots.”

“The marquee was pretty crowded, and people were nervous about filming the dance scene. It would’ve been easy to slip a substance into a glass without anyone noticing. What would be more difficult is making sure a specific person drank it.”

Unless the killer wasn’t picky about who died… The thought sent a sick tremor through my stomach. Yeah, all that fried food hadn’t been smart. “Seems an extreme way to cause disruption on set, though,” I mused. “Up to this, all the incidents were pretty harmless. Going from causing a dancer to fall to poisoning an extra is quite an escalation, no?”

“Well, what other explanation do you have?” Beth’s brow furrowed. “The fact remains that a woman is dead, most probably from poison, and her death happened right after a number of troublesome incidents on the set.”

“True,” I conceded, “but it doesn’t feel right. Gretchen’s fall, the dye in Storm’s makeup kit, Coco’s smashed cups… It’s a leap from those incidents to murder.”

“Yeah, but maybe the killer didn’t mean for Theresa to die,” my sister suggested. “For all we know, Theresa had an underlying health condition.”

“That’s a definite possibility. The autopsy will shed light on Theresa’s general state of health prior to her death.”

“And,” Beth continued, warming to the theme, “some of the other incidents might’ve been fatal. If Gretchen had hit her head, for example, or if one of Storm’s clients had an allergic reaction. Perhaps the poison that killed Theresa would make you or me sick, but not kill us.”

“Until Liam calls and tells me the autopsy results, it’s all speculation.”

“I know, but I can’t help but worry I was the intended victim. Even if the person behind it only wanted to make me sick, they wouldn’t have known—well, it could’ve been really bad.”

I ambled around the garden, snapping photos of plants. My sister followed me, alternating periods of loaded silence with sudden, hysterical rambling. After her fourth navel-gazing, woe-is-her diatribe, I’d had enough. “Jeez, Louise. Take a chill pill, girl.”

She glared at me, her expression mutinous. “If I was allowed to take a chill pill, believe me, I would.”

“You’re shooting a rom-com. Surely being calmer would help channel the comedic vibe. If you don’t have something to take, ask Brid Kelly, the nurse. I’m sure she has a supply of Valium or similar.”

“No, Maggie, I can’t.”

 “I understand you’re worried, but stressing and not sleeping isn’t going to help.” I took a few steps and paused in front of a pretty, white-flowering plant. Hemlock. The plant was bushy and plentiful. I cocked my head to the side and examined it carefully.

“Maggie?” Beth hovered by my side, her nervous energy making my own blood pressure soar.

I peered closer at the hemlock and sucked in a breath. Was it my imagination, or—?

“Maggie,” my sister repeated, louder this time. “I have news.”

My heart pounded against my ribs. I kneeled down to get a better look.

“Are you even listening to me?” Beth’s voice rose in disbelief.

 I switched on my phone’s camera and zoomed in close. I froze mid-breath. “Do you see that plant?” I pointed to the area of hemlock I’d just photographed.

“Forget the plant,” my sister cried. “You call yourself a detective? Can’t you tell I’m trying to tell you something?”

“And I’m trying to tell you something.” I jabbed a triumphant finger at the hemlock, the very plant Noel Tate had suggested when I’d described Theresa’s symptoms. “Part of that plant’s been cut, and recently. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t like that yesterday.” Had Noel suggested hemlock to put me off the scent? I couldn’t rule him out as a suspect.

“I don’t care about the plant.” Beth broke off in a sob.

I tried to send the photo to Liam, but the connection wouldn’t cooperate. I spun around to face my sister. “But don’t you see what this means?”

“Maggie—” she began, at the same time I said, “I bet hemlock was in the shots.”

“—I’m pregnant.”