Seahorses, clownfish, and brightly colored species she’d only ever seen in movies danced around one another. Plants dotted witha bioluminescent glow swayed in the bubbling water. A charming castle with a thick patina created hiding holes for the more timid fish. And scattered along the bottom were round lumps of coral with thick neon-green fibers growing off the individual spores. Palytoxin. The only sample of the neurotoxin Cordelia had been able to find within a fifty-mile radius.
And it was located in the restaurant owned by Martina’s family. Martina, who had a very public feud with the pastor over books. Someone Cordelia had never considered a suspect, never questioned, because she’d been helpful and friendly and forthcoming. And because she acted as if she knew nothing about coral or saltwater tanks.
“Is everything okay?” Archer asked. “You seem distracted.”
Cordelia cleared her throat and tried her best to smile. She couldn’t tell Archer what was bothering her without spilling all the details about the wine, moving his father’s body, tricking him to gain access to his labs. Suddenly, this date had become a lot more complicated.
While Archer tried to engage her in conversation, she kept sneaking side glances at the tank. The waiter set a frothy drink with a pineapple garnish in front of her, and she took a sip, nearly gagging as the acidic burn of fruity vodka hit her throat. She quickly ordered water and hoped Archer wouldn’t notice the way she’d pushed her other drink to the side. She needed a clear head and as many wits about her as she could keep for the evening.
Cordelia opened the menu. “What would you recommend?”
“We have to get the guac and chips. The apple straws are a turnoff for some people, but one bite and you’ll swear you’ve never tasted something so good in your life.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Cordelia flipped the menu over to figure out which drink she’d ordered, and her heart stopped. There, at the top of the wine list, was Dew Valley Cabernet.Cordelia’s hands started shaking so badly she dropped the menu. “Excuse me, I’m just going to run to the ladies’ room. Can you order for me?”
She didn’t care what he picked. Her stomach rolled so hard, she didn’t have a prayer of keeping any kind of food down. Val had said she had an exclusive contract with five restaurants. Cordelia had only found two at the library before she’d run into Stella and given up for the day. What were the odds of palytoxin and Dew Valley sharing the same space? The poisoned wine had to have come from here. It was too coincidental.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Archer stood as she did, concern etched into every feature on his ruggedly handsome face. “If this place is too much...”
“No.” Cordelia’s voice cracked, prompting her to take another drink of the pineapple monstrosity. Her throat burned and her head became fuzzy around the edges. “No, this restaurant is lovely. I’m just”—what could she say?—“having female problems.”
In a manner of speaking.
Before Archer could say another word, she grabbed her purse and rushed to the back of the restaurant, nearly ramming into their waiter on his way back to the table. She had Daisy’s number pulled up and ringing as she pushed the door open. La Mariposa Plateada was fancy enough to have a waiting room in the restroom. Cordelia sat on the edge of the white leather couch, tapping the toe of her sandal on the ground as her phone continued to dial.
Daisy’s voicemail picked up, so she tried Belinda Sue next. Arline didn’t believe in cell phones, so there was no point in trying to reach her. She rang Daisy three more times in a row before she finally picked up. The gruff sound of an older man laughing in the background filtered through the other end of the line.
“Miss Cordelia?” Daisy’s breathless voice hitched with worry. “What’s going on? Did your date go sour?”
“Not yet.” Cordelia glanced at the door as it swung open, bringing in two tipsy women and the scent of apple body spray. “I’m just not sure how I’m supposed to sit through dinner and act like everything is normal when we’re seated next to a saltwater tank with palytoxin growing on the coral and Dew Valley Cabernet on the menu.”
“No.” Muffled static crackled in Cordelia’s ear as Daisy placed her hand over the receiver and told her client she needed to step out for a minute. “Okay. Dill is going to take a breather. Where are you?”
“At La Mariposa Plateada.” Cordelia glanced around again and lowered her voice. “A restaurant owned by Martina Ruiz’s family.”
“Ooh, the stew is thickening.” The click of Daisy’s heel against the concrete came through the line. “What should we do with this information?”
Cordelia rubbed her thumb over a hangnail. “I was hoping you’d have some ideas.”
“I’m not the ideas gal, that’s more Belinda Sue’s thing, but I just heard a whip crack and Bradley Wipple begging for his life in her room, so I’m not inclined to go tapping on her door at the moment.”
Cordelia squeezed her eyes shut to block out the image her mind conjured. “Do you think I ought to come home early?”
“Absolutely not.” Daisy shrieked as if it were her evening in jeopardy. “There’s nothing we can do about this tonight, so you might as well go on back to dinner and enjoy yourself. I’d stay clear of the wine though. Just in case.”
Cordelia hung up with Daisy and washed her hands. Staringat her drawn reflection in the mirror, she patted cold water over her cheeks. How had this date gone so far off the rails? Archer could already tell she was twitchy, and she couldn’t tell him it had nothing to do with him without giving away what was really going on.
Pulling herself together, Cordelia pushed open the restroom door and headed back to the table. But instead of finding an appetizer waiting, Archer stood next to their table like he was ready to leave. Cordelia approached cautiously, not saying anything, just giving him a curious look. She didn’t want to manifest bad vibes and ask if he was calling off the date.
“I just took an interesting phone call.” The grim set of Archer’s expression didn’t bode well for Cordelia, but she kept her expression neutral and her hands knotted behind her back.
“Oh?” She tried not to blink too much as her thoughts cascaded over one another, giving rise to intrusive, panic-stricken scenarios. “From who?”
“From the lab in Dallas. It seems like they received a toxicology sample from me the night you showed up at my office in that trench coat and left as soon as the courier arrived. Funny thing.” He gave her a long look. “I didn’t submit a toxicology sample to the lab.”
Cordelia glanced between the saltwater tank and Archer. Sweat pooled at her spine. Feeling trapped and borderline claustrophobic, she did the only thing a reasonable woman in her position could do. She turned around and ran.
Chapter Nineteen
