Chương 8
It rotted backward.
Every good memory became contaminated by a new question.
At eleven forty-seven, Brooks called.
“We found the car.”
“Where?”
“Parking garage near Union Station.”
“Marcus?”
“No.”
“Camera?”
“Garage cameras show him leaving on foot.”
“When?”
“Three thirty-four.”
“Where did he go?”
“We’re working on it.”
Vincent stood.
“Was anyone with him?”
“No.”
Brooks paused.
“The lab confirmed the decanter from your table contains a toxic compound.”
Vincent’s fingers tightened around the phone.
“And Adrian?”
“Hospital testing found a compatible substance in blood samples.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
“So arrest him.”
“We need to find him first.”
“You have enough?”
“We have enough to treat this as an intentional poisoning investigation.”
Vincent looked through the ICU window at Adrian.
“He tried to kill us.”
Brooks said nothing.
“Say it.”
“I’m not going to give you certainty where I don’t have it.”
“You have a photograph.”
“Yes.”
“You have the bottle.”
“Yes.”
“You have the bartender.”
“Yes.”
“You have my brother’s blood.”
“Yes.”
“What else do you need?”
“Motive. Access. Chain of custody. The missing decanter. Marcus.”
Vincent breathed through his nose.
Brooks continued.
“And I need you not to turn this into a private war.”
“You keep saying that as if you know me.”
“I know powerful men under stress.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No,” she said. “Sometimes it’s worse.”
He ended the call.
Then his brother moved.
Only a finger.
Vincent froze.
A nurse looked at the monitor and stepped into the room.
“Adrian?”
His eyelids fluttered.
Vincent reached the bedside.
Adrian did not wake fully.
His hand shifted once against the sheet.
Vincent touched his wrist.
“Don’t.”
The nurse looked at him.
Vincent shook his head.
“Sorry.”
He stepped back.
He had spent decades telling people where to stand, what to sign, what to fix.
Here, his authority was useless.
He sat down again.
“Come on,” he said quietly.
Adrian’s eyes remained closed.
“You can make fun of the jacket.”
Nothing.
Vincent looked down at the ivory dinner jacket folded over the chair. He had not changed.
Adrian hated it.
Called it his casino-owner jacket.
Vincent rubbed his thumb against the edge of the bed rail.
“You said it made me look like a man who owns a yacht named after himself.”
The ventilator breathed.
“I don’t own a yacht.”
Nothing.
“You know that.”
His voice thinned unexpectedly.
He stopped talking.
That afternoon, Rachel received a call from Detective Brooks.
“Marcus is missing.”
Rachel sat down.
Emily was upstairs with Danielle.
“Missing how?”
“His car was abandoned.”
Rachel looked toward the front window.
“Do you think he’ll come here?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said you’d tell me if the risk changed.”
“It changed.”
Rachel stood again.
“What do I do?”
“We can place a patrol outside temporarily. I’d also like you and Emily somewhere that isn’t publicly associated with you.”
“My sister’s address is probably public.”
“Likely.”
Rachel pressed her hand to her forehead.
“Hotel?”
“Potentially.”
“I can’t afford—”
“I’m not asking you to solve the money part yet.”
Rachel hated that sentence.
“What does that mean?”
“It means the district attorney’s victim-services coordinator can sometimes arrange temporary lodging depending on circumstances. Let me make a call.”
Rachel looked toward the stairs.
“Vincent offered to pay me not to work.”
Brooks was quiet.
“That sounds like him.”
“You know him for one night.”
“I know the type.”
Rachel almost laughed.
“You two would hate each other.”
“We’re developing something.”
“What?”
“Mutual disappointment.”
Despite herself, Rachel smiled.
It disappeared quickly.
“Detective.”
“Yes?”
“Marcus talked to me before we left.”
Brooks’s tone changed.
“What did he say?”
Rachel told her.
Ask Vincent what his brother was really doing tonight.
Ask why Adrian requested a private meeting.
Brooks was silent for a moment.
“Thank you.”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“It tells me he knew what Adrian was investigating.”
Rachel sat very still.
“So Emily was right.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Come on.”
“I said it matters.”
Rachel looked at the muted television. A reporter stood outside Bellamy House.
“Do you ever say what you think?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“You must be exhausting at home.”
“My husband agrees.”
It was the most ordinary thing Brooks had said.
Rachel was absurdly grateful for it.
The hotel arrangement took two hours.
By then, it was unnecessary.
Marcus was caught at a commuter bus terminal thirty-eight miles away.
He did not resist.
He had twenty-three hundred dollars in cash, two phones, and no luggage.
The missing decanter was not with him.
News of the arrest spread before Brooks had finished the paperwork.
Rachel saw the alert on Danielle’s phone.
EMILY SAVED BILLIONAIRE FROM POISON PLOT, one site declared.
Emily was in the living room watching cartoons.
Rachel turned the phone facedown.
“No.”
Danielle said, “I didn’t write it.”
“No more.”
“I’m just checking.”
“You’re feeding yourself poison one headline at a time.”
Danielle looked at her.
“That was annoyingly good.”
“I’m exhausted.”
“Still good.”
Rachel sat beside her.
The cartoon characters on television were trying to build a treehouse with a dinosaur.
Emily laughed.
The sound surprised both women.
Rachel looked at her sister.
Danielle’s eyes filled.
“Oh, don’t.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re doing the face.”
“What face?”
“The family face.”
Danielle laughed through her nose.
Rachel leaned back.
For twenty minutes, they watched the cartoon.
Nobody discussed murder.
Nobody mentioned decanters.
Emily complained that the dinosaur had no reason to own a hammer.
Rachel said maybe it had hobbies.
Emily said that was unrealistic.
Danielle nearly choked on her tea.
The next morning, Vincent called Rachel.
She almost did not answer.
She recognized the number from the restaurant’s guest file.
“Hello?”
“Rachel.”
His voice sounded different.
Not weaker.
Less polished.
“How’s Adrian?”
“Awake.”
She stood.
“He is?”
“Briefly. They removed the breathing tube this morning.”
Rachel closed her eyes.
“Oh, thank God.”
“He’s confused. Angry. Complaining about the hospital coffee.”
“That sounds promising.”
“The nurse said the same thing.”
A pause.
May you like
“How’s Emily?”
“Asking every forty minutes when she gets her camera back.”
