Murder Brewed At Home (Microbrewery Mysteries Book 3) by Belle Knudson

statistics revealed a startling discovery. After the suicide of a public figure, a writer by the name of Ankur Darzi, in whose suicide note the man's self-poisoning method had been described in great detail, an astute chemist working for the state forensics board convinced the newly-formed panel on heart disease to re-open some of the more obscure cases in the public record. By delving into these cases, including the cases of Veda Singh and Ravi Joshi, the panel concluded that an overwhelming number of deaths by heart attack had actually been poisoning cases. The culprit was a regional plant called the cerbera odallam, a plant which grew in great abundance in India, and was known to natives as the "suicide flower.”
                  In 2008, Nirav Singh was indicted in the murder of his wife. He'd mashed the seeds of the plant into his wife's meal. The spices of the dish had overwhelmed the flavor of the seeds.
                  Ravi Joshi, suffering from undiagnosed depression, made a sweet drink out of the mashed seeds, honey, and vodka. In the middle of washing out his glass he collapsed in front of the sink. He'd left no note.
                  The plant also grows in Madagascar and is easily obtained. The seeds can be smuggled in the lining of luggage.
     
    #
     
                  I didn’t sleep well that night. I woke up the next day to Tanya singing in the kitchen while brewing coffee.
                  "Please tell me that's strong stuff," I said groggily.
                  "It is. I know you too well. I heard you get up a few times."
                  "Why are you so cheerful?"
                  "Me?"
                  "The singing."
                  She shrugged. "I don’t know. I met a guy last night."
                  "I can’t bear to listen to you yet. Can it wait till after the coffee's done?"
                  "You really didn't sleep well at all, did you?"
                  "Nightmares."
                  "Well, your boyfriend called."
                  "Huh?"
                  "You were out this morning. It happens to me too. When you can’t sleep all night and then you finally crash in the wee hours. You're unwakeable. Anyway, Lester called. I picked it up and said hi. He's cute, you know. Even over the phone. Anyway, he said he had news about your prince? That's all he said. He said you'd understand. I told him I'd tell you."
                  "My what?"
                  "Your prince? Like the son of a king?"
                  I thought for a moment. "Prints, dopey. Like fingerprints."
                  "Oh, of course. That would explain it."
                  "Did he say to call him back?"
                  "Yeah, he's down at the station."
                  "I need coffee first. I'm having a hard enough time listening to you this morning."
                  She put an oversized mug of the steaming coffee right in front of me and I dove into it like I was trying to find a long lost friend in there somewhere.
                  Coffee can be a wonderful thing.
    #
                  " We got a match on all three items ," said Lester.
                  "Then I'm right," I said, without missing a beat. "It's Daisy."
                  " Sorry? "
                  "I'm keeping my end of the deal. Listen, Lester, anywhere we can meet? Somewhere safe?"
                  " I'll come and pick you up. "
                  "Ok," I said, and hung up without saying goodbye.
    #
                  Lester picked me up and we drove a half hour out of town to an ice cream shop that sold hand-churned stuff you'd trade your first-born for.
                  He got a chocolate malted milkshake; I