Chương 3
“I’ll throw up.”
“Then hold it. You look better holding water.”
Despite herself, she almost smiled.
Across the room, Vivian watched them.
It occurred to Evelyn that Vivian might be measuring alliances. Who stood near whom. Who whispered to whom. Who might testify. People like Richard and Vivian had spent their adult lives reading rooms for weakness. Evelyn had learned the same skill from entering rooms where no one remembered her name.
Two uniformed officers entered first, followed by a detective in plain clothes. The detective introduced herself as Lena Morales. She wore a dark green blazer, flat shoes, and the expression of someone who had walked into too many rooms where money expected different rules.
She asked that the music remain off. She asked that everyone stop recording. Most people pretended they had not been.
Then she separated Richard, Vivian, and Evelyn.
The ballroom had three private salons along the western corridor. Evelyn was taken to the smallest, a windowless room normally used for donor calls and last-minute makeup repairs. A round table occupied most of the space. Someone had left a paper coffee cup beside the phone, the cream inside dried into a pale ring.
Detective Morales sat opposite her.
“Start before the glass.”
Evelyn lowered the melting ice pack.
“How far before?”
“As far as you need to explain why you were watching Mrs. Hale.”
“I wasn’t watching her.”
“That’s not how it will sound.”
Evelyn looked at the detective’s hands. No wedding ring. Short nails. A faint blue ink mark along the side of her thumb.
“I was watching the camera feed because the service tablet had frozen.”
“Who authorized you?”
“My supervisor told me to fix it.”
“Did he authorize your personal watch?”
“No.”
“Why use it?”
“Because it could mirror the tablet screen. I’ve done it with inventory lists. The watch was my brother’s.”
Morales waited.
The mention of her brother had come out for no reason Evelyn could defend. It was what happened when she was frightened: irrelevant facts escaped first, leaving the important ones trapped behind them.
“He was a paramedic,” she added. “He bought it for shift alerts. He died last year. I kept it.”
The detective did not offer sympathy. Evelyn appreciated that.
“What did you see?”
“Mrs. Hale was standing near the champagne tower. She had told me earlier that Mr. Hale’s glass was the one with the star cut into the base.”
“Why did she tell you that?”
“She said he preferred it. She told me no one else was to use it.”
“And then?”
“I saw her check the room. She opened something in her bracelet, took out a vial, and squeezed liquid into the glass. Then she moved the glass from the right side of the tray to the center.”
“Could it have been medication?”
“I don’t know.”
“Could it have been flavoring?”
“I don’t know.”
“Could Mr. Hale have known about it?”
“I don’t know.”
Morales leaned back. “But you accused her of poison in front of a ballroom.”
“Richard was lifting the glass.”
“You could have stopped him without saying poison.”
“I had maybe one second.”
“You could have said the glass was contaminated.”
“I didn’t think of a legally careful word while he was about to drink it.”
For the first time, the detective’s expression changed. Not approval. Recognition.
“Did Mrs. Hale see you looking at the watch?”
“Not until after I knocked the glass away.”
“Did anyone else see the live feed?”
“No.”
“Is the recording stored on your watch?”
“It cached the last several minutes. The full feed should be on the security server.”
“Should be?”
“The tablet dropped the connection twice.”
Morales held out an evidence bag.
“I need the watch.”
Evelyn’s left hand closed over it.
The reaction embarrassed her. It was only a device. Heavy, scratched along one edge, too large for her wrist. Her brother Daniel had worn it through ambulance shifts and Sunday grocery runs and the final morning when he had gone out for coffee, come home complaining of pressure in his chest, and collapsed before Evelyn could understand that the paramedic in the room needed an ambulance himself.
Morales noticed her grip.
“You’ll receive a property receipt.”
“I know.”
“Unlock it first.”
Evelyn entered the passcode.
It was Daniel’s birthday. She had once promised herself she would change it because keeping a dead man’s birthday as a password felt like something a person did when grief had turned superstitious. She never had.
Morales placed the watch in the bag.
“Did Mrs. Hale threaten you before tonight?”
“No.”
“Did Mr. Hale?”
“I’ve never spoken to him.”
“Do you have financial problems?”
Evelyn stared at her.
“Everyone working this room has financial problems compared to the people eating in it.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“Yes.”
“How serious?”
“My rent increased. I have medical debt from my brother. My mother’s assisted-living facility raised its monthly rate.”
“Have you ever asked the Hales for money?”
“No.”
“Applied to any Hale charitable fund?”
Evelyn’s throat tightened.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
“For what?”
“Caregiver assistance.”
“Was the application approved?”
“No.”
“Who denied it?”
“I received an automated email.”
Morales wrote something down.
Evelyn leaned forward. “You think I invented this because their foundation rejected me?”
“I think a defense attorney will ask before I finish breakfast tomorrow.”
“I didn’t know Vivian would be near the champagne tower. I didn’t know the feed would be on my watch. I didn’t know Richard would pick up that glass.”
“Good,” Morales said. “Keep answering like that.”
Evelyn sat back.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re telling me what happened instead of what you think will help.”
May you like
The detective asked about the slap, the bucket, every person who had stood within ten feet, and whether Evelyn had touched the glass after it fell. Evelyn answered until the sequence began to feel detached from her, a set of movements belonging to a stranger with her name.
When Morales left, Luis entered with a clean uniform jacket.
