Chapter 17 - THE SYRINGE
Detective Cross stared at the photograph for a long time.
“What was in it?” Emiliano asked.
Celeste was brought back from transport for questioning.
When Cross placed the photo in front of her, she closed her eyes.
“A sedative.”
Emiliano’s chair scraped backward.
“For Grace?”
Celeste shook her head quickly. “No. For you.”
“Why?”
“Malcolm said you had to miss the portrait session.”
Emiliano understood slowly.
If he was absent, Celeste could stage the official family images however she wanted. Later, she could claim he had approved them.
“How were you going to give it to me?”
“In your champagne.”
Grace, standing just outside with Mateo, heard everything.
Emiliano saw her face.
Celeste did too.
“I didn’t do it,” Celeste said desperately. “I put the syringe in my purse. I never used it.”
Cross asked, “Why not?”
Celeste laughed once, bitterly. “Because Grace bumped my plate.”
Emiliano stared at her.
Celeste’s eyes filled.
“The whole timeline changed. She spilled food, I lost my temper, everyone looked at us, and then I hit her.”
Her cruelty had exposed the plan before the drug could be used.
Cross sealed the photograph.
“Where is the syringe now?”
“In the bridal suite. Inside the lining of my purse.”
Mateo sent an officer.
Ten minutes later the evidence was recovered.
Lab testing would confirm the contents.
Celeste looked toward Grace.
“I know you’ll never forgive me.”
Grace’s voice was quiet. “You don’t get to ask me to.”
Celeste flinched.
Ava began to cry.
Grace moved to her, not Celeste.
Emiliano watched both girls hold onto each other.
Then Cross’s phone rang.
She listened, frowned, and handed the phone to Emiliano.
It was the hospital.
Marcus Vale—the mechanic tied to Isabella’s crash—had been found unconscious in a motel room.
May you like
Before losing consciousness, he had told a paramedic one sentence.
“Malcolm didn’t order the brakes cut.”
