Chapter 44: The Other Cup

 

The wooden horse lay between them, its broken tail pointing toward Rhys.

“Someone else?” Elara asked. “Who?”

Sylvie shook her head. “Gabriel never explained. I haven't seen him in eleven years. That message is the first proof I've had that he's alive.”

“Then how can you be certain someone is drinking it?” Brandt asked.

“Because that's what he told me the last time we spoke. He said the medicine had changed hands. He wouldn't say whose.”

Rhys rubbed his thumb against the horse's chipped mane.

“Why would he send me a warning now?”

“Maybe he learned you were still taking it.”

“And how would he know?”

Sylvie looked away.

For one uneasy moment, Elara wondered whether the woman had brought more than a message from her son.

“Mrs. Laurent,” she said gently, “if Gabriel contacted you before sending the horse, Brandt needs to know.”

“He didn't.” Sylvie's eyes filled. “I waited eleven years for a letter. I wouldn't hide one.”

Elara believed her. But belief would not protect anyone.

Brandt photographed the note and asked Sylvie to remain available for a formal interview. When he left, Rhys stayed by the window, the horse cupped in his large hand.

“You gave him this,” Elara said.

“I don't remember doing it.”

“He did.”

Rhys looked down.

“That must have meant something to him.”

Elara wanted to tell him that a forgotten kindness could still be real. Instead, she touched his wrist. Some things were too fragile for a speech.

 

Priya arrived twenty minutes later with a tablet and two coffees.

“I've pulled the household supply records,” she said. “Vale's office billed the Calloway estate for two separate deliveries each month.”

Rhys looked up.

“Two?”

“One was sent to your residence. The other went to House Calloway.”

“My grandfather's house.”

“Yes. The invoices use different codes, but the supplier is the same.”

Elara set her coffee down.

“Who accepted the second delivery?”

“Most months, a household employee. The latest one was signed for by Marguerite.”

Rhys gave a short, bitter laugh.

“Of course it was.”

“Don't decide she's guilty because she withheld the truth,” Elara said. “We have enough evidence to question her. Not enough to condemn her.”

He turned to her sharply.

“She signed for drugs someone fed me for twenty-one years.”

“She signed for a delivery. We don't know what was in the second package.”

He looked ready to argue. Then he closed his eyes.

“You're right,” he said, sounding as though the words hurt.

Priya tapped the screen.

“There's another difference. Your tea was delivered to your private kitchen. The second package required refrigeration.”

Elara frowned.

“Tea doesn't need refrigeration.”

“No.”

“Then don't call them the same treatment,” she said. “Not until the laboratory compares them.”

Priya's expression softened with approval.

“I've asked Tobias to retrieve a sealed sample through the police. No one is entering the estate without authorization.”

Rhys glanced toward Elara.

“You two have become very good at refusing me.”

“Someone has to,” Priya said.

Against all expectation, Rhys smiled.

It vanished when her tablet chimed.

“Brandt just sent a preliminary update. The laboratory found an unidentified compound in your tea. They're running confirmatory tests.”

Elara felt Rhys's hand find hers beneath the table.

“Could it explain the headaches?” he asked.

“Possibly,” Priya answered. “Nothing's established yet.”

He nodded. There was no anger in his face now, only exhaustion.

Elara squeezed his fingers once.

 

A nurse appeared at the consultation-room door.

“Mrs. Quinn? Odette Marchand is awake again. She asked for you.”

Elara rose.

“Alone,” the nurse added.

Rhys released her hand immediately.

Inside the intensive care room, Odette watched her approach with eyes sharpened by pain.

“Did you find Sylvie?”

“Yes.”

“And the boy?”

“Not yet.”

Odette's gaze moved toward the door.

“Elara, there is something I never told you about Gabriel.”

“Then tell me now.”

The old woman swallowed. “After Lucille died, I received letters. Every birthday. No return address.”

“From Gabriel?”

“One drawing came with a wooden horse. I thought it was a child's thank-you.” Her hand trembled on the blanket. “The last letter arrived yesterday, while I was still in the hospital. Someone pushed it under my door.”

Elara's pulse quickened.

“What did it say?”

Odette reached beneath her pillow and drew out a folded envelope. Someone had opened it once, carefully, then tucked the flap back inside. Its paper smelled faintly of chamomile.

Elara recognized the scent immediately. It was the same herbal sweetness that had clung to the sachets in Rhys's tin, although she could not tell whether the source was identical.

She unfolded the letter.

There were only two lines.

The medicine is meant to keep the witness quiet.

Ask Rhys who was standing beside his bed when he woke up.