“Educational purposes,” I repeat slowly. “So you’d know how to extract the active compounds?”
Bunny’s expression shifts slightly, and I can see wariness creeping into her eyes. “I suppose I would, theoretically. But why are you asking?”
“Just curious about the process,” I say with what I hope sounds like innocent interest. The last thing I want is for a killer to think I’m onto them. “I had no idea there was so much science involved in herbal medicine.”
“There’s quite a lot, actually,” she agrees, though she’s definitely more guarded now. Her eyes narrow on me. “Which is why I always emphasize safety and proper education in my workshops.”
“Is that why you chose to use digitalis to poison your brother?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady despite my racing heart.
Bunny’s eyes widen a notch. “Why would I do that?”
Lenny belts out a roar, soft but menacing enough.
“A little birdie told me that you’ve been systematically trying to destroy Whitmore Chocolates,” I continue, stepping closer. “Your wellness consultations specifically tell clients to avoid all Whitmore products. You wrote a book calledDeath in a Designer Wrapper,and their sales dropped thirty percent after it was published.”
“A little birdie named Gina, I suppose.” Bunny’s face pales, but I press on.
“That’s right. And she also told me that you’ve been spreading rumors about unethical labor practices, trying to convince their suppliers to drop them. You even contacted their Madagascar vanilla supplier and lied about Duncan planning to switch to artificial flavoring just to cut costs. That sounds like a nasty rumor in play.”
“That’s not—” Bunny starts, but I cut her off.
“She also may have mentioned that you’re basically a walking apothecary. You can get your hands on anything that’s supposedly good for people—or anything that can kill them. Like digitalis. Easy access, and who would suspect the wellness guru?”
Bunny’s mouth opens and closes, but no words come out.
“Way to go, Lottie,” Lenny growls. “Now let me take over.” He bares his fangs in a chilling manner and the hair on the back of my neck bristles.
“Is it true, Bunny?” I shake my head, hoping it’s not so. “Was Duncan standing in the way of your crusade against his family’s business, so you eliminated him?”
Bunny scoffs in my face. “Look, I don’t know who the killer is, but Gina has had it out for me ever since she set foot in this family,” she says, her voice calm but firm. “It’s as if they wanted to oust me from the family business entirely. I was just trying to make sure we kept up with the best ethical practices. I use our cocoa products in my own baking, for Pete’s sake!” She crosses her arms and takes a bold step in my direction. “If you ask me, Fairbanks and Gina have been eating sour grapes ever since my father reduced my brother’s stake in the company. He didn’t want to leave it in the hands of someone who was a notorious party boy.”
I blink back. “What do you mean?” I ask.
“My father never fully trusted Fairbanks,” Bunny continues. “He was a mess in his twenties—partying, dropping out of college multiple times. Dad saw Duncan as the responsible one with his business degree and MBA, already working as president and COO. Fairbanksonly received twenty-five percent instead of an equal share because Dad questioned his judgment.”
“That’s true,” Lenny sniffs. “Fairbanks was more interested in the fun crowd than the business crowd. It often landed him in hot water, and Richard wasn’t thrilled.”
Bunny shakes her head. “And Gina? My father couldn’t stand her. She married into this family with dollar signs in her eyes, and now she’s trying to paint me as the villain because I wrote a book about corporate responsibility. I publicly rejected the family business practices when I was twenty-five because I believed we could do better, not because I wanted to destroy anything.”
“But your book specifically targeted Whitmore products,” I point out.
“My book was about the entire industry’s need for transparency and ethical sourcing,” Bunny corrects while gesticulating wildly. “Gina is making it sound like a personal vendetta when it was really about pushing for better standards across the board. The fact that it affected our sales just proves we needed to examine our practices more closely.” Her voice grows stronger. “I didn’t kill my brother. But someone did, and pointing fingers at me conveniently takes attention away from people who had real financial motives.”
“Bunny!” a voice calls from behind. “Could you help me find something for my arthritis?”
Bunny glances toward the customer and looks genuinely reluctant to leave our conversation. “I’m sorry, Lottie, but I should help the poor woman. She let me know earlier that she’s been struggling with joint pain for months. Unlike what you might believe, I really do want to help people, not harm them.”
“Of course,” I say quickly, realizing this might be my only chance to ask one last crucial question. “But before you go, what business did Duncan have with Luke Lazzari?”
Bunny’s face darkens with something that might be fear, anger, or both. She glances around nervously before stepping in close.
“Honestly, that’s one reason Duncan might be dead,” she says just below a whisper. “He was in way over his head with that Lazzarifellow. The family company has been...” She casts a quick glance over her shoulder. “… facilitating certain financial arrangements for Luke’s organization. Import documentation, currency transfers, shipping logistics for products that may not have been entirely chocolate-related.”
My brain immediately starts connecting dots at lightning speed. “Financial arrangements?”
She nods. “Duncan got nervous when federal agents started sniffing around some of Luke’s other businesses,” Bunny continues in hushed tones. “He wanted to end the partnership, thought the scrutiny was getting too dangerous. But Luke wasn’t interested in losing such a convenient cover operation.”
Cover operation? I gasp.
