Chapter 2 - NOBODY LEAVES THROUGH THE KITCHEN
Richard’s first instinct was to tell security to lock the house.
Ava stopped him.
“Call 911 first.”
He looked at her.
She pointed toward the black capsule wrapped inside the white napkin.
“You don’t know what that is.”
Correct.
Richard called.
His private security director started quietly blocking exterior doors without physically detaining anyone.
Ava objected to that too.
“People can wait because police ask them to. Don’t turn this into your own arrest scene.”
Richard almost asked who exactly worked for whom.
Then stopped.
So far, the server had made better decisions than he had.
Victoria stood several feet away holding the empty vial.
Her cheek was reddening where Ava had slapped her.
Ava’s right hand trembled.
Nobody apologized.
Not yet.
Richard looked toward Victoria.
“You said heart medication.”
“You know what it is.”
“Say it.”
Her expression hardened.
“The liquid Dr. Patel prescribed after your last rhythm episode.”
A few nearby guests heard.
Richard hated that.
That was why he had asked Victoria to put the drops into his drink privately.
Not his finest decision.
The paramedics arrived before the police.
Richard had not swallowed from the glass.
They checked him anyway.
Heart rate elevated.
Blood pressure high from anger.
No symptoms suggesting ingestion.
Victoria handed over the vial.
The label had been peeled off.
A paramedic looked at her.
“Why?”
Victoria answered:
“Because my father didn’t want his medical information sitting on a dinner table.”
Richard closed his eyes.
There it was.
Another decision waiting to become embarrassing under fluorescent scrutiny.
Detective Lena Ortiz arrived twenty minutes later.
Forty-five.
Major-crimes unit.
Calm enough that Richard immediately disliked being unable to hurry her.
She separated Richard, Victoria and Ava.
The remaining guests were asked to remain in the drawing room until brief identification statements could be taken.
No one was formally detained.
The black capsule went into an evidence container.
The broken wine glass remained where it had fallen until the crime-scene technician photographed every piece.
Ortiz spoke to Ava first.
“Why were you recording Ms. Hale?”
Ava looked toward the dining-room doorway.
“Because I saw her take out the vial.”
“Before she used it?”
“Yes.”
“Why film instead of asking?”
“I’m a server.”
“That doesn’t answer me.”
Ava glanced down.
“I worked a Hale dinner two months ago. Mr. Hale got dizzy afterward. Ms. Hale took him upstairs and told staff he was tired.”
Richard heard about that later.
Ava continued:
“Tonight I saw the same vial. I thought maybe I’d misunderstood the first time. So I recorded.”
“You suspected poisoning?”
“No.”
“What did you suspect?”
Ava hesitated.
“That they were hiding something medical.”
She had been right.
Ortiz asked:
“Did you see anyone place the black capsule in the glass?”
“No.”
“Did you ever lose sight of the glass?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before I started recording.”
“How long?”
“Maybe a minute.”
Then Victoria.
She told Ortiz the liquid was a compounded cardiac medication Richard had been prescribed four months earlier.
Did she normally administer it?
“Sometimes.”
“Why?”
“Because he asked me.”
“Why not take it himself?”
Victoria looked toward Richard through the open doorway.
“Ask him.”
Ortiz did.
Richard answered:
“I didn’t want the board discussing my health.”
“Board of what?”
“Hale Development.”
“Why would taking prescribed medication at dinner cause that?”
“It wouldn’t.”
Ortiz waited.
Richard disliked her more.
He continued.
“I’ve had intermittent cardiac rhythm problems. We’re in the middle of a major financing transaction. I did not want rumors about my health becoming part of it.”
“So your daughter secretly puts medication into your wine.”
“When necessary.”
Ortiz’s expression barely changed.
“Does your doctor recommend mixing it with alcohol?”
“No.”
“Then why do it?”
Richard said:
“That is a separate question.”
“It may not be.”
Fair.
Then Victoria asked to speak again.
Her eyes were fixed on the evidence container holding the capsule.
“I’ve seen one like that before.”
Ortiz looked at her.
“Where?”
Victoria swallowed.
“My mother’s room.”
Richard turned.
“Victoria.”
She ignored him.
“When?”
Ortiz asked.
“Six years ago.”
Richard’s wife Evelyn had died six years earlier.
Cardiac arrest following a collapse at home.
Victoria continued:
“After she died, I found a black capsule under her bedside cabinet.”
Richard stared.
“You never told me that.”
“Yes, I did.”
“No.”
“I asked what it was.”
Richard’s expression changed.
Victoria’s voice dropped.
“You told me it was one of Mom’s supplements.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“I do.”
Detective Ortiz raised one hand.
“Nobody decides what that means tonight.”
Good.
Because Richard already knew what his daughter was thinking.
And he refused to let one black capsule rewrite Evelyn’s death without evidence.
Then the security technician entered.
“Detective?”
Ortiz looked over.
“We have a gap in the dining-room camera.”
Richard frowned.
“What gap?”
“Fifty-two seconds.”
“When?”
The technician checked.
“Immediately before Ms. Brooks started recording.”
The room went quiet again.
Ortiz asked:
“System failure?”
The technician shook his head.
“No.”
“What caused it?”
“Privacy mode.”
“Who activated it?”
May you like
He looked toward Richard.
“Household master account.”
