Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN BEHIND THE SNAKE BRACELET
“Special handling doesn't mean poison.”
Olivia said it so quickly that I almost believed she had rehearsed the sentence.
We were sitting across from one another in Detective Vega's interview room.
Her attorney remained beside her.
I had insisted on hearing whatever she was willing to explain, but Vega controlled the interview.
Olivia wore a cream blouse.
Her diamond snake bracelet glittered beneath the fluorescent lights.
Eight months earlier, I had given her that bracelet after she admired it in a jeweler's window.
Now I couldn't look at it without remembering Sophie's frightened voice.
Shiny lady.
Detective Vega placed the engagement-party order in front of Olivia.
“Did you authorize this dessert?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Daniel had been helpful during the event. I wanted to thank him.”
“Why was the order removed from the normal food safety review?”
“I didn't handle those procedures.”
“Who did?”
“Warren.”
The detective watched her carefully.
“Did Warren tell you what was in the dessert?”
Olivia's attorney touched her arm.
She stopped speaking.
I leaned forward.
“Olivia, did you know Daniel was trying to report financial misconduct?”
She looked at me.
“He was asking questions he didn't understand.”
“What questions?”
“About vendors. Payroll. Things that weren't his responsibility.”
“He worked for the catering company.”
“That didn't make him an accountant.”
“No,” I answered. “But apparently he could count.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Gabriel, you don't understand what Warren was doing to me.”
For the first time, she sounded genuinely frightened.
Then her attorney advised her to stop.
I left before she could say another word.
Ruth was waiting outside.
She handed me a financial summary.
“Olivia's event company has been losing money for almost two years.”
I studied the figures.
Mercer Events owed nearly three million dollars.
A private lender had refinanced the debt.
The lender was controlled by Warren Pike.
I suddenly understood why Olivia had been so desperate to host increasingly extravagant events.
She wasn't simply enjoying wealth.
She was trying to remain financially afloat.
But debt did not explain Daniel's death.
And it certainly didn't excuse planting a vial in Rachel's purse.
That evening, I visited Rachel at the modest apartment the company had arranged for her while the investigation continued.
Sophie sat on the carpet arranging wooden blocks around Peanut.
Rachel offered me coffee.
I accepted.
There were children's drawings taped to the refrigerator.
In one photograph, Daniel was holding Sophie on his shoulders.
He looked younger than I had imagined.
“Did Daniel ever mention Warren by name?” I asked.
Rachel nodded.
“Once.”
“What did he say?”
“That a man named Mr. Pike told him to stop asking questions.”
“Anything else?”
Rachel hesitated.
“He said the strange charges weren't mistakes. They were payments for events that never happened.”
She looked toward her daughter.
“Daniel was going to give his notes to someone outside the company. He was scared, but he kept saying that if he stayed quiet, other people would get hurt.”
Sophie looked up.
“Daddy made pancakes.”
Rachel smiled sadly.
“Yes, baby.”
“Elephant pancakes.”
“I remember.”
Sophie carried Peanut to me.
“You hold him.”
I accepted the stuffed elephant.
He had one loose button eye and a faded blue ribbon.
“Your daddy gave you this?”
She nodded.
“Daddy fixed his ear.”
I noticed a small line of careful stitching.
Daniel had repaired the toy himself.
Something about that tiny act of love affected me more than any accusation Rachel had made.
A man who took time to fix his daughter's stuffed elephant deserved to have someone take time to understand why he died.
Two days later, Detective Vega called us into the medical examiner's office.
Daniel's original autopsy had been limited because his death had initially appeared consistent with a sudden cardiac event.
But retained biological samples were still available.
With the new evidence, the medical examiner had ordered additional testing.
The results were not a perfect match to every component found in my birthday frosting.
But they revealed a closely related sedating substance.
One capable of creating serious complications in someone with Daniel's medical condition.
Rachel gripped the edge of the table.
“Are you saying his heart didn't just stop?”
The medical examiner spoke gently.
“His heart did stop, Mrs. Bennett. But we now have evidence that a drug may have contributed to the event.”
“Would he have died if he hadn't eaten that cake?”
“We cannot answer that with certainty yet.”
Rachel began crying.
I reached toward her, then stopped.
She had every reason not to want comfort from me.
But she looked up and asked one terrible question.
“Does this mean somebody killed my husband?”
Detective Vega answered carefully.
“It means we have grounds to investigate his death as a possible homicide.”
Rachel lowered her head.
Then she whispered something that stayed with me.
“He wasn't supposed to die before Sophie learned how to write his name.”
And just as I believed we were finally approaching the truth, Ruth entered with a message from the corporate board.
Warren Pike had scheduled an emergency vote for the following morning.
May you like
The agenda was the forced sale of Red Mesa Casino.
And the notice said my approval was no longer required.
