Free Larkspur by Sheila Simonson

Angharad looked as if she might faint. "I am sure,"
Jay said softly, "that the murderer knows a lot about plants."
    Peltz jumped to his feet. "Now wait a minute..."
    "I thought you had nothing to say, Peltz."
    "I..."
    Angharad was tugging at her husband's sleeve. He sank down beside her, no longer
grinning. "It's a frame."
    "For Godsake, Ted, shut up."
    "Listen, bitch..."
    This delightful marital exchange was interrupted by the sound of cars on the graveled
drive.
    Jay looked relieved. "If you please..."
    The Peltzes fell silent.
    "I sent for the crime scene investigators. They have warrants to search your
belongings."
    Uproar.
    "...this house and grounds, and the cabin and grounds occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Peltz,
for the poison container. I also intend to take statements from each of you."
    "We'll be here all day!" D'Angelo protested.
    "All of us? What about the servants?" Lydia, a little shrill.
    "Yeah, what about the fag, little Miguelito? He ran the bar." Needless to say that was
Ted Peltz.
    "None of you," Jay looked round, unsmiling, "is in immediate danger of arrest, but you
are all material witnesses, including the members of Mr. Llewellyn's household staff and Ms.
Fromm."
    Everyone had forgotten Denise.
    "You can't question Denise," Lydia said firmly. "She's in a state of emotional
collapse."
    "I've sent for her son."
    Dennis. Good God. I shifted on my hassock, numb.
    "When he gets here, I fully intend to question her."
    Lydia clucked her tongue.
    Jay went on, dispassionate, "I'll want to establish who drank what and with whom, and,
in particular, Mr. Llewellyn's movements in the last hour or so before he was taken ill. As friends
of Mr. Llewellyn, I'm sure you'll want to assist the investigation in any way you can. It's your
duty to answer my questions clearly and accurately. You are not to leave the county without
notifying me." He let that sink in. He mirandized us. I thought D'Angelo was going to faint.

Chapter V
    Dennis drove up in a Forest Service pickup just after Kevin Carey had finished taking
my statement. I think Jay was out on the lawn, scraping up vomit, or maybe he was rooting
through the garbage looking for the container the poison was brought in. The search of our
effects had been thorough. So far no vial of suspicious liquid had appeared. So Jay was destined
to grub. I was outside loading our junk into the Blazer.
    Dennis parked the green truck with his usual deliberation and got out, shutting the door
neatly. "Hi, Lark."
    "Hi. You took your time."
    "I finished breakfast. Ginger says to tell you she'll hold the fort."
    "She won't have to. I'm going home in about fifteen minutes."
    "Is it true old Llewellyn's dead?"
    His air of calm annoyed me. "He was murdered, Dennis."
    His jaw dropped. "Geez, no kidding?"
    I stared into Dennis's eyes. They were as startled as a deer's. "Jay didn't tell you?"
    "He said Llewellyn took sick last night, that you tried CPR and it didn't work." Dennis's
Adam's apple bobbed. "He said my mother was pretty upset. That's all. Murder?"
    I explained.
    Dennis whistled. "Geez, that's awful. And there I was thinking it was a good thing he
was dead."
    I must have looked as if I'd swallowed a spider. Dennis never had bad thoughts about
anybody.
    He blushed. "Well, not really, but I'm glad he won't be coming up here every summer,
reminding her of how it was before."
    "Before what?"
    "Before she had to stop dancing. See, she was always a part of that world, artsy
glamorous stuff, and she misses it. Every time he comes...came up here she'd get all sad and
mournful, thinking about what she was missing living in the tules."
    "Did she have to move up here, Dennis?"
    "Not have to, exactly. The thing is," his wide brow wrinkled, "she hasn't got anything
else or anyone else. My grandparents are dead. She used to have her dancing and me. Now it's
just me."
    Oh, Dennis, I thought, you poor schmuck.
    "So she bought that little house on Beale Creek and moved in," he went on earnestly.
"But she