A Poisonous Plot (Lily Larkin Mysteries #3)

Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

Before she reached the end of the driveway, Lily had her phone to her ear. It felt good that things were back to normal between her and Flynn, and that she could call him without overthinking it.

“Everything okay?” he asked, answering quickly.

“Yeah. Do you know Gordon thinks Arthur is infatuated with Sally?”

“Yes. Sally thinks it’s nonsense, and Sergeant Proctor agreed with her.”

“Did you also know that he’s autistic?”

“The sergeant mentioned it.”

“You could have told me.”

“I thought it was pretty obvious. I’m also not sure what difference it makes. Would you rule him out of your investigation because of it?”

“I guess not.” Her words came out as a question.

“No,” he said. “You wouldn’t.”

“Okay. But with Gordon accusing him, I need to clear his name. And fast before he loses his job.”

“What’s the plan?”

“I’m on my way to Arthur’s place. With his knowledge of plants, he could be the key to figuring everything out.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but thought better of it. From what she knew of Arthur Penrose, he wasn’t likely to clam up at the sight of a police uniform.

“See you soon,” she said and ended the call.

When Flynn arrived at Arthur’s house – on foot and just a few minutes after Lily – she’d already knocked on the door and got no answer.

“He’s not here,” Lily told Flynn as he stepped onto the garden path.

“Are you sure?” He tipped his head to a wheelbarrow at the corner of the garden, which was loaded up with weeds and chunks of soil.

“He didn’t answer the door,” Lily said, wandering past Flynn to look around the side of the house. “I guess he probably is around here somewhere.” She jerked her chin towards the greenhouse door, which stood open.

There was no sign of Arthur when she stepped into the humid air of the glasshouse, but she assumed he wouldn’t have left the door open if he was going far.

“I think there are more plants than the last time we were here,” she remarked, wandering through the centre of the greenhouse.

Flynn walked past her to the end of the aisle. “Or maybe the plants have just grown.”

“You might be right,” Lily agreed, frowning as she eyed the tomato plants in front of her.

“This might be something.” Flynn’s voice got her attention. He was crouched down, sliding a cardboard box out from beneath the bench at the end of the row.

“What is it?” Lily asked, peering over his shoulder as he drew back the flaps on the box. Her eyes widened at the pouches of what appeared to be dried herbs. “They’re the same herbs that were delivered with the welcome boxes.”

“Definitely looks like it,” Flynn said. “Don’t touch any of it.” Shifting the box aside, he leaned under the bench. “There are more plants and flowers down here … that looks like bunches of cut daffodils at the back…” He moved a potted plant to one side, then winced and withdrew his hand, cursing quietly.

“What was that?” Lily asked.

“A thorn, I guess,” he said, moving his hand to his mouth. “That bloody hurts.”

As he stood, Lily pulled on his arm to move him out of the way. Her heart pounded as she eyed the familiar plant with its camouflaged thorns. She sucked in a breath, forcing her panic down. “That’s one of those sleeping beauty things.”

“No way,” Flynn said, disbelief thick in his words. “It can’t be.”

“It is,” she said, taking his hand to inspect the damage. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just a scratch.”

“You’re bleeding.” She rooted in her jacket pocket for a tissue. “Flynn, that’s bad.”

His brow furrowed as he stared at the plant beside his feet.

“Here,” she said, pressing a tissue against the base of his thumb.

“Are you sure it’s the same plant?”

“Fairly sure.” Lily’s eyes darted from his palm to the plant. Carefully, she wedged the toe of her shoe against the pot and pushed the plant under the bench and safely out of the way. “Do you feel okay?”

“I feel fine. I don’t think it went deep.”

“It’s bleeding quite a lot.” She pressed a second tissue onto the wound. “Are you sure you don’t feel ill, or dizzy or anything?”

“I feel completely normal.” Flynn’s gaze remained fixed on the plant. “I guess Gordon was right about Arthur.”

“Yeah,” Lily said, though she was currently more concerned about Flynn than anything else.

“He seems like such a nice guy,” Flynn said, his brow wrinkling further. “I’ll need to call this in.”

“I was sure Gordon was wrong about Arthur.” Her stomach knotted, and she realised that she’d wanted him to be wrong about Arthur. Everyone who knew him had insisted he’d never hurt a fly, and she really wanted that to be true.

“This is enough evidence for us to arrest him,” Flynn said, but his words came out slowly, as though it was an effort to string the sentence together.

He swayed and clutched at the edge of the counter to steady himself.

Lily put a hand on his back. “Flynn?”

“I don’t feel… I’m… My head is…” He squeezed his eyes closed, then opened them and gave a jerky shake of his head as though trying to clear his thoughts.

“You need to sit down,” Lily said, trying to keep the panic from her voice.

“I’m okay,” he said slowly.

“Yeah,” Lily said, forcing reassurance to her voice. “Of course you are, but you should sit down in case you get dizzy. Just for a minute, then you can stand up again and we’ll get out of here.”

“No, I think I’ll be okay.” His knees buckled as though they were going to give out, and he slumped against the counter to catch himself. Panic glimmered in his eyes as he looked helplessly at Lily.

“Sit down,” she snapped. “I can’t catch you if you fall, and I’m fairly sure you’re about to collapse. Sit down. Right now.”

“Bossy,” he murmured as he lowered himself to the ground.

Crouching close to him in the cramped space, Lily took his hand to inspect the wound more closely. “If it didn’t cut you as badly as Gordon, maybe the effects won’t be so bad.” Her insides tightened when she peeled the tissues away. While it was a smooth cut, it was also pretty deep.

“You need…” Flynn started, then seemed to lose his train of thought. “You need to…”

A sound from the garden had Lily’s ears pricking.

“Hello?” Arthur called questioningly.

Automatically, Lily ducked down despite already being out of view.

“Lily,” Flynn said weakly, as he lowered himself to lie flat on his back. With a feeble arm movement, he pressed a button on his walkie-talkie, but his hand fell away and his eyes closed before he could manage any more.

“Good idea,” Lily said, then frowned as Arthur called out again, his voice louder now. “Okay,” she murmured, peering at the walkie talkie. “I can figure this out. Press this button, right?” Moving her face close to the device, she whispered frantically. “We need help. There’s been an accident. We’re on the Isles of Scilly at Arthur Penrose’s house. PC Grainger has been poisoned. You need to get in touch with Sergeant Proctor and send him here. And an ambulance too. To Arthur Penrose’s house. Quick! Also, I’m turning the radio off so you don’t speak and give us away. I need to keep us hidden.”

She clicked the radio off before she removed her fingers from the button, hoping someone had heard the message.

“Is someone there?” Arthur’s voice was close now and Lily’s heart rate went crazy. Flynn’s arm twitched and she clutched at his hand while pressing her other hand to his cheek, which was worryingly pale.

“Don’t you dare die on me,” she said, her voice a hushed whisper. His eyes opened the tiniest slit and relief flood through her. His hand squeezed hers.

“You’re not going to die,” she told him, annoyed at herself for panicking when she needed to stay calm and reassure him. As his eyes closed again, she moved her mouth beside his ear. “It’s going to be fine,” she whispered. “You’ll sleep for a few hours, and then you’ll wake up as though nothing happened. I’ll take care of everything until then. There’s probably an ambulance on the way already, and Sergeant Proctor will be here any moment, I’m sure of it.”

At least she hoped so. But what if the message hadn’t gone through? She could get Flynn’s phone and call Sergeant Proctor. Or she could call the station from her own phone. She was reaching into her pocket when the greenhouse door opened wider, screeching on its tracks.

“What’s going on?” Arthur asked, filling the doorway with his large frame.

“Flynn is hurt.” Lily stood to put herself between Flynn and Arthur. “I need to get him out of here.”

Arthur might be bigger than her, but Lily knew how to handle herself. Her uncle had always made sure of it.

Slowly, Arthur shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t let you go anywhere.”