Page 9 of Trick of Light
5
Two days later, Safiya had been transferred from the Harbortown hospital to Maine Medical in Portland. Nothing had shown up in her blood tests that suggested cleaning products were at fault. There was no sign of food or chemical poisoning. The doctors were apparently honing in on accidental ingestion of a toxic plant. Most such toxins would be flushed from the bloodstream too quickly to get a solid result, but according to the police, whatever the blood test had detected was too faint to be conclusive. Barnaby got the news from Luke, who’d come by to quiz the staff on what they knew about her exposure to the local flora.
“What sort of toxic plant? I didn’t know we had any on this island, other than the usual poison ivy.” Leaning on his shovel, Barnaby used his forearm to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He was taking a break from lawyer consultations to help the landscaping staff build a new flagstone patio. He’d take physical labor over legal talk any minute of any day.
“There are toxic plants everywhere in the world,” said Luke wisely, as if he was now an expert on the topic. “That’s not even including poisonous mushrooms, which we don’t have on this island. By the way, did you know that some people think consciousness evolved as a result of ingesting hallucinogenic mushrooms?”
“You know something? Think of any wacky theory about anything in the world, and you’ll find someone who believes it.” Barnaby unscrewed the top of his water flask and drank deeply. “Is she going to be okay?”
“They think so. She has some other health issues that were triggered by the reaction to the toxin. I can’t get into details, that’s her business. Another thing is that they think it could have been powderized, and that would explain how hard it hit her.”
Barnaby jumped to the logical conclusion. “So this plant might not even grow here.”
“Correct. She might have taken it medicinally or recreationally.”
“We interviewed all her friends, remember? Everyone said she doesn’t do drugs or drink. She’s a very faithful Muslim.”
“Medicinally, then. It could be some kind of folk remedy.”
Barnaby shrugged, feeling the welcome burn in his shoulders from actual physical labor. “She’s from Somalia. Maybe they use plants for healing purposes?”
“Why are you so calm about this?” Luke cocked his head at Barnaby, his deep blue eyes—the Carmichael blue, the only thing all the siblings shared—alive with curiosity. “Won’t it make the hotel look bad that a staff member got accidentally poisoned?”
“I hired a PR crisis manager and I’ve been fucking Zen about the hotel ever since.”
Luke laughed at that. “Good move. I never saw you as a PR expert.”
“You mean telling reporters to get the fuck off the island isn’t the best approach?”
“I don’t personally have a problem with it. Be nice to Heather, though,” he added quickly. Every time Luke so much as mentioned Heather, he got a lovesick look on his face, but Barnaby didn’t have the heart to tease him about it. Sometimes you just had to bow down in the presence of true love.
“Heather’s more of an islander than I am,” he said instead. “I’m more worried about Safiya and how she got ahold of this toxic plant. She lives on the mainland, have they asked her family there?”
“Yes, her husband said that someone on the island was helping her with some health issues.”
A faint alarm bell went off in Barnaby’s mind. There was only one person he knew who might be dispensing non-FDA-approved cures.
“You think it was someone here at the Lightkeeper Inn?”
“As far as I know, she never went anywhere else on the island. Most of the staff members stick to the eastern side.”
“Well, you’re welcome to interrogate the staff again. Mind if I stay here and finish this patio?” Barnaby glanced over at the three landscapers, who had continued the work of leveling out the dirt where the flagstones would go.
“That’s fine. They might talk more if you’re not there anyway. Word has it they’re all terrified of you.”
“The hell?” Barnaby scowled in outrage. “What’d I do?”
Luke pointed at his face. “That.” Then he laughed.
Barnaby made a serious effort to relax his frown into a more pleasant expression, but it must have been a comical sight because Luke laughed even harder.
“I’m just fucking with you. I think they’re terrified because they don’t know what’s going to happen to the hotel. Rumors are flying that you’re going to turn it into something else, like a Buddhist retreat or a school for Ugandan orphans.”
“Swear to God, the way crazy misinformation spreads…I’m trying to keep the place going. None of this is my doing, I’m just picking up the pieces.”
Although as he said that, Barnaby wondered if it was true. Sure, he hadn’t directly caused their current crisis. But if he’d been around more, could he have prevented it? Maybe.
“I know,” said Luke. “And believe me, all of us sane Carmichaels owe you a thank you. The others would too, if they could spare a thought to anyone except themselves. Anyway, you might think about clearing the air somehow.”
