Chapter 2
Nobody touched anything.
That was my first order.
No plates moved.
No glasses were cleared.
No servants left.
The bodyguards closed every door leading out of the dining hall.
Ione remained on the floor beside the overturned bread station.
Merritt sat against the collapsed carving display holding one side of his face.
Neither of them spoke.
I walked back to my chair.
My glass sat exactly where I had left it.
Dark red wine.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing floating.
Nothing that would make a man hesitate.
That was probably the point.
I looked at Nash.
“Come here.”
He hurried toward me.
I picked him up.
He immediately buried his face against my shoulder.
Gravy was still in his hair.
I didn't care.
“Tell me what Aunt Ione said.”
His arms tightened around my neck.
“She said don't touch Daddy's cup.”
“When?”
He thought.
Three-year-olds don't give useful timelines.
They give moments.
“Before cookies.”
“Tonight?”
He nodded.
“Who was with her?”
He looked toward Merritt.
“Grandpa Merritt.”
Ione snapped.
“He's confused.”
Nash flinched.
I felt it.
I turned toward her.
“Speak to him again and you lose the privilege permanently.”
She closed her mouth.
I looked back at Nash.
“Anyone else?”
He frowned.
Then pointed toward the service door.
“The man with the black napkin.”
Several people at the table shifted.
I saw it.
Not one.
Three.
Interesting.
I handed Nash to my head bodyguard, Elias.
“Take him upstairs.”
Nash immediately grabbed my shirt.
“No.”
I looked at him.
“You're safe.”
“No.”
His eyes filled.
“Daddy comes too.”
That hurt more than I expected.
I rested my forehead against his.
“I will.”
He stared at me for another second.
Then whispered:
“Don't eat.”
“I won't.”
Elias carried him out.
The door closed.
I turned back to my family.
“Now.”
Nobody spoke.
I pointed to my glass.
“What is in it?”
Ione laughed.
Too quickly.
“Wine.”
Merritt didn't.
His eyes remained fixed on the floor.
I looked at him.
“Merritt.”
Nothing.
“Look at me.”
He did.
“What is in my glass?”
“I don't know.”
I nodded.
Then looked toward one of the house physicians who attended every large family gathering.
“Dr. Mercer.”
He stepped forward.
“Boss.”
“Check it.”
He didn't ask questions.
Good men rarely needed unnecessary explanations.
He smelled it first.
Then dipped a clean cloth into the wine.
Waited.
His expression changed.
“What?”
“There's something bitter underneath it.”
Ione rolled her eyes.
“Wine is bitter.”
Dr. Mercer ignored her.
He took a second glass from the table.
Compared them.
Then looked at me.
“This one smells different.”
“Will it kill me?”
“I can't tell you from smelling it.”
“Then tell me what you can.”
He hesitated.
“It smells like something used to heavily sedate.”
The room became very quiet.
I looked at Ione.
She stared back.
I had known this woman my entire life.
She taught me how to dance before my sister's wedding.
She sat beside my mother when my father died.
She held Nash when he was seven hours old.
And she had apparently put something in my wine at Christmas dinner.
“Why?”
She smiled.
“You're making a fool of yourself.”
I looked at Merritt.
“Why?”
He said nothing.
Fine.
I didn't need them to speak yet.
I needed the room to start speaking for them.
I walked slowly along the table.
Twenty-two adults.
Eight capos.
Six senior family members.
Bodyguards at every wall.
I stopped near the middle.
“Who is the man with the black napkin?”
Silence.
I looked at the folded napkins.
White linen.
Every place setting identical.
Except one chair near the service doors.
The napkin was black.
Nobody was sitting there.
I pointed.
“Whose seat?”
The room remained silent.
Then my cousin Adrian said:
“That was supposed to be for Rafe.”
I turned.
“Rafe who?”
“Rafe Colton.”
I knew the name.
Everybody did.
Rafe had worked for Merritt twelve years earlier.
Then disappeared after a dispute with my father.
He had not been invited into a Halbrook home since.
I looked at Merritt.
“You invited him?”
“No.”
Ione answered for him.
“He wasn't coming.”
That was the first useful thing she'd said.
I turned slowly.
“You know who I'm talking about.”
Her face tightened.
A mistake.
Small.
But enough.
Then Elias's voice came through the radio clipped inside my waistcoat.
“Boss.”
I lifted it.
“Yes.”
“We found something upstairs.”
“What?”
A pause.
“In Nash's pocket.”
I looked at Ione.
“What is it?”
Elias answered.
“A black ribbon.”
Silence.
Then:
May you like
“And a small brass key.”
Merritt finally looked afraid.
