Chapter 4 - What was in my tea
The laboratory result changed the direction again.
The tea contained a dangerous substance.
Not something supernatural.
Not some movie poison that glowed.
A real chemical contaminant in a concentration that could have caused serious harm.
The white foaming reaction happened because the spilled tea mixed with residue from a recently used marble-cleaning product.
That mattered.
The foam itself didn't prove poisoning.
The analysis did.
Someone had contaminated my drink.
I looked at Nora.
“Did you make the tea?”
“Yes.”
“Did you put anything in it?”
“No.”
“Who touched the cup?”
Her answer surprised me.
“Lily.”
I stood.
“What?”
“Before you came downstairs.”
My anger flared.
Nora immediately corrected herself.
“I'm not saying she poisoned you.”
“Then why mention her?”
“Because she knocked it over once.”
Lily had apparently bumped the table while looking beneath it.
Nora replaced my cup.
“With another cup?”
“Yes.”
“From where?”
“The sideboard.”
“Was it already there?”
Nora stopped.
“Yes.”
Prepared.
Waiting.
“Who prepared it?”
“I assumed Helen.”
Helen Shaw was our housekeeper.
She had worked for my family for twelve years.
Trusted completely.
Except Helen wasn't working that afternoon.
She had called in sick.
So who placed the second cup?
Security footage should have answered.
It didn't.
The dining-room camera had been disconnected.
When?
Eleven forty-two that morning.
Who was home?
Nora.
Lily.
And, according to Lily, Eleanor Price.
Eleanor denied touching the tea.
She claimed she entered through the patio door after Lily recognized her from previous visits.
That sentence made me furious.
“Previous visits?”
Three.
Eleanor had been secretly searching for Claire's hidden envelope.
She believed it contained proof against William Mercer.
“William's dead.”
“Yes.”
“Then who are you afraid of?”
“His son.”
I frowned.
Claire was an only child.
At least that's what she'd always told me.
“Claire didn't have a brother.”
Eleanor's voice softened.
“She did.”
“Name?”
“Andrew.”
“What happened to him?”
“He disappeared twenty-three years ago.”
Another buried family secret.
“Why?”
“Because William caught him stealing.”
“How old was he?”
“Seventeen.”
“And nobody told me?”
“Claire believed he was dead.”
“Was he?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
Eleanor paused.
“Because Andrew Mercer contacted me last month.”
My skin prickled.
“What did he want?”
“The same thing everyone wants.”
“What?”
“The account Claire left behind.”
Then Nora quietly interrupted.
“Daniel.”
I looked at her.
She was staring at the bank receipt from Claire's envelope.
At the bottom was a handwritten authorization code.
Nora whispered:
“I know that number.”
“From where?”
May you like
She looked terrified.
“It was written on the note attached to your teacup.”
