“They tested Jamie’s plate,” he says, “then Toby remembered that he took all of your shrimp because you weren’t going to eat it, so they tested your plate, too.”
“No.” I already know what he’s about to say because the thought had crossed my mind, as well.
“There were traces of strychnine on top of your rice. The shrimp from your plate was poisoned, not Jamie’s. His shrimp was fine. The poison was added into the sauce that your shrimp was served with. That’s where they got the highest markers, nowhere else.”
“Cole, oh God…”
“Somebody tried to poison you, Willow.”
The rage coming off him in waves sends shivers down my spine.
11
COLE
The last twenty-four hours have been a roller coaster from beginning to end: cops, ambulances, crime labs, interviews. statements, public relations damage control through our family’s attorneys and Morgan Enterprises’ PR department, framing this as an individual attack on a wedding guest, so as not to tank Willow’s agency for good.
“Where’s Dad?” I ask Sheila.
She’s in the kitchen, obsessively wiping down every surface after having fired the entire staff—except Ian. He’s been with our family for too long.
“Upstairs, resting. He didn’t take any of this well, at all. The doctor recommended bed rest and sedatives for the rest of the week,” she says, spraying another counter before wiping it with a dry paper towel.
“And Terrence and Katrina?”
“Off on their honeymoon, as far away from here as possible,” Sheila replies. “I’ve got a mountain of emails and textmessages to answer about yesterday, but this is the only thing I can do.” She pauses and turns around to face me as I pour myself a cup of coffee and take a seat at the breakfast table. “How are Jamie and Willow holding up?”
I lift an eyebrow at her, trying to figure out what’s going through her head.
She scoffs and turns away. “Forgive me for caring.”
“I’m just surprised.”
“Well, don’t be. I may not be your favorite person, Cole, but I don’t exactly condone attempted murder, especially not at my son’s wedding. Whoever did that nearly ruined the best day of his life. It’s unforgivable.”
She shudders and shakes her head as if to erase the memory altogether, then goes on wiping another counter down until it’s sparkling. The citrus smell of the disinfectant spray stings my nose, but I try to ignore it. My blood is still boiling. I still see a potential killer in almost everyone I meet.
Somebody tried to kill Willow.
My woman.Ourwoman. And I won’t rest until I figure out who the fucker is. They’d better pray the cops find them first, though.
“That whole incident must’ve damaged her business image, as well,” Sheila adds after a long and heavy pause. “How is she, Cole? Talk to me.”
“Willow is fine, Sheila. You don’t have to worry about her. We’ve got our PR teams out there in the media, doing a hell of a lot of damage control. The authorities are doing their jobs, too. No one died; that’s what matters.”
“And Jamie?”
“He’s at home already. Willow’s with him. His ex came back to help him, as well,” I reply. “The cops are still looking for one of the waiters who worked the wedding, though.”
Sheila stops and turns around again, this time with a deep frown. “What are you talking about?”
“They’re interviewing every member of the staff from the manor and the catering company,” I say, “including the ones you fired yesterday. There’s one guy they can’t account for, Brett Harvey… Ever heard the name?”
“No, why would I have?” Sheila seems just as confused. “Does Willow know the guy? She’s the one who hired the catering company. All I did was go over the menus with Katrina. I barely said two words to the serving staff yesterday.”
“She knows even less than you, at this point.”
She sighs deeply, and I see the defeated slump of her shoulders. It’s uncharacteristic for a woman like Sheila. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s almost as scared as Willow about what happened.
