Old Poison by Joan Francis Read Free Book Online Page A

slight Spanish accent overlaid with a
cultured, almost aristocratic English. That he had chosen to accept
a personal confrontation rather than disappear again displayed the
assurance and audacity of a professional. Now to learn what type of
professional.
    “I’m Diana Hunter. Pleased to meet you,
Gill. Are you an exhibitor at the expo?”
    “You are Diana Hunter? Then, please tell me,
Miss Hunter, why does your name tag say Professor Lilac?” A half
mocking smile played on his features, but his eyes warned me that
his question was no joke.
    “Evelyn and I had a passing acquaintance.
She couldn’t be here, so I borrowed her pass.”
    “I see.”
    “Now your turn, Senor. Why were you so
interested in Evelyn’s badge that you followed me around the
hall?”
    “The professor is also an acquaintance of
mine. It was natural for me to wonder who was masquerading under
her identity and why.”
    “I see.” I studied his face, wondering what
kind of acquaintance, friend or foe? Had he sent those two men to
the bike path? “Why don’t we sit over there and order a couple of
the Amazon coolers and talk about our mutual acquaintance?”
    He smiled. “I know something better. This
way.” He held out an arm, graciously allowing me to go first. That
also put him behind me where I couldn’t watch him.
    “Why don’t you break a trail for me though
this mob?” I said.
    “My pleasure,” he replied. I followed him
across the room to a booth I had visited earlier. The exhibitor was
an institute called Enviro-Medic Research, which was based in Costa
Rica. Running it were the Hoffmans, a husband and wife team:
Judith, a medical doctor; and, Ken, a botanist. Together they had
set up a foundation to protect a small patch of forest near their
medical clinic. They provided modern medical aid to the local
citizens and researched tropical plants used in traditional
medicine.
    Ken Hoffman walked over to us, and guarded
looks passed between the two men. Ken was not really handsome but
was large and athletic, with a strong masculine presence. From my
first glance at his broad shoulders and thick neck, I pegged him as
a college football hero and big-man-on-campus.
    With forced casualness Gill said, “Mr.
Hoffman, allow me to present Diana Hunter, an acquaintance of
Professor Lilac’s. It seems that Evelyn loaned Miss. Hunter her
pass for the expo. I think maybe this solves the mystery of why it
was said that Evelyn was here.”
    Ken tried to control his facial reaction but
was artlessly transparent, revealing first relief then confusion
and concern. His lack of skill in the fine art of duplicity seemed
like a good opening.
    Shaking his hand, I said, “I stopped by your
booth earlier, Ken, but I had no idea we had a mutual acquaintance.
How is it that you know Evelyn?”
    His expression warmed immediately. “Oh, Ev
lives in a small cottage at our institute. It’s somewhat of a
symbiotic relationship. In fact, she says she is like one of the
air plants that cling to trees. We give her free rent to help with
her work. Then she stays there year round and keeps an eye on the
place during the months we have to come back to the States and beg
for money.”
    “Oh, that’s great,” I said. “So does Gill
work with your institute too?”
    He started to answer in his same happy-puppy
openness, but Gill interrupted before Ken could speak.
    “No, I just live in the same village.”
    “Don’t you believe him,” said Ken. “If it
wasn’t for–”
    “Whoa, whoa, my friend. Before you begin
telling lies about me, I promised Miss Hunter a glass of our
wonderful homemade fruit juice.” The look that passed between them
was sufficient to stop Ken’s open discourse.
    “Oh, ah, sure. Come on in the back here,” he
said, inviting me into a small canvas enclosure at the back of the
exhibit booth.
    It did not escape my notice that I was now
out of sight of the people in the hall, and had lost what safety
there had been in that crowd.
    Ken