Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN AT THE DOOR
“Stop.”
Maria froze.
Emma ran to her and wrapped both arms around her waist.
“I didn’t touch your money,” Maria said.
Vincent hadn’t mentioned money.
That bothered him more than the message.
“Who said you did?”
Maria’s gaze slipped toward Celia.
Celia folded her arms. “I was trying to handle this quietly.”
“Handle what?”
“Cash disappeared from your study. I found Maria near the door yesterday.”
“I was cleaning the hallway.”
“With your daughter?”
Maria said nothing.
Vincent looked at Frank.
“Call an ambulance. Tell them we have suspected food tampering. Then call the police.”
Celia’s composure cracked.
“You’re bringing police into this house?”
“A child says somebody put something in my food.”
“Think about your family.”
“I am.”
Frank hesitated, then stepped into the hall with his phone.
Vincent asked Maria to sit. She stayed standing.
“I need you to tell me why you looked at that plate like you’d seen it before.”
Maria rubbed Emma’s back.
“My husband.”
“What about him?”
“He got sick after lunch at one of your company properties.”
The room seemed to shrink.
Vincent knew her husband had died. He remembered approving funeral assistance years earlier.
A warehouse accident. That was what Adrian had told him.
“His name was Owen,” Maria said. “He worked in your accounting office.”
Celia looked down at her phone.
Vincent held out his hand.
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
“Then put it on the table until the police arrive.”
“You don’t get to treat me like a criminal.”
“Stop giving me reasons.”
From somewhere upstairs came a soft metallic click.
His study door.
Vincent turned toward the ceiling.
Maria whispered, “She gave me a key this morning.”
Celia snapped, “Because you said you needed—”
“I never asked for one.”
“Where is it?” Vincent asked.
Maria reached into her apron pocket.
She pulled out a brass key.
A small white bottle came out with it.
It struck the hardwood and rolled toward Vincent’s shoe.
Emma stared.
“That’s it.”
Celia drew a sharp breath.
“Oh my God. Maria.”
The accusation was perfectly timed.
Too perfectly.
Maria stared at the bottle as if it had crawled out of her pocket by itself.
“I’ve never seen that.”
Vincent didn’t bend to pick it up.
He looked at Celia instead.
“You knew exactly where to look.”
Outside, tires crunched over the driveway.
Adrian entered through the front hall without ringing.
He took in the bottle, Maria, and the untouched bread.
May you like
Then he sighed.
“Vincent. Please tell me you haven’t called anyone.”
