Chapter 1 - THE BOWL HE WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO EAT
Marcus Cole’s spoon hit the walnut dining table before Victoria understood that he was afraid.
Not sick.
Afraid.
He folded forward in his chair, one hand pressing hard against his abdomen while the other gripped the edge of the table.
“Victoria… what did you do?”
Across from him, the Chicago skyline glittered beyond thirty-eight floors of glass.
Victoria lowered her spoon.
She had barely touched the orange soup.
Marcus looked at her bowl.
Then his.
Then back at her.
That was when he understood.
Thirty minutes earlier, Victoria had watched her husband standing at the kitchen island with his back partly turned.
He thought she was answering an email.
She wasn’t.
She had seen the tiny glass vial.
Seen him glance toward the dining room.
Seen his hand move over one bowl.
Marcus left afterward to take a phone call in the bedroom.
Victoria did not know what he had added.
She did not smell it.
Did not touch it.
Did not attempt to identify it.
She simply moved the bowls.
Now Marcus pushed his chair backward.
The legs scraped violently across the floor.
He reached toward her wrist.
His arm stopped halfway.
“I saw what you put in my bowl,” Victoria said.
Marcus froze.
His breathing changed.
“You switched them.”
Victoria’s fear became strangely cold.
“You should’ve watched which one you ate.”
The penthouse door opened.
Sophia Bennett walked in wearing a black evening dress.
Victoria’s younger sister had a key.
That wasn’t unusual.
Sophia had been coming and going from the apartment for years.
What was unusual was her expression.
She entered smiling.
Not politely.
Expectantly.
Then she saw Marcus bent over the table.
The smile vanished.
Victoria looked from her husband to her sister.
Marcus saw Sophia.
Something passed between them.
Recognition.
Panic.
Victoria’s stomach turned.
Beside Marcus’s folded napkin sat the empty vial.
Sophia took one step backward.
Victoria slid the vial toward the center of the table with one finger.
“Which one of you wants to explain this first?”
Neither answered.
Marcus tried to stand.
His knee struck the table.
A wine glass tipped and shattered on the floor.
Victoria stood immediately.
“Don’t.”
“I need—”
“I’m calling 911.”
“No.”
That word came from both Marcus and Sophia.
At exactly the same time.
Victoria looked at her sister.
Sophia’s face changed.
“Vic, wait.”
“Why?”
“We can explain.”
“Then explain while I call.”
Marcus looked terrified now.
Not of Victoria.
Of the phone.
Victoria dialed anyway.
She gave the dispatcher the address.
Said her husband had suddenly become ill after eating dinner.
Said there was an unknown vial on the table that she had seen him handle.
She did not say poison.
She did not guess.
She told the truth she could prove.
Marcus sank back into the chair.
Sophia whispered:
“You weren’t supposed to switch them.”
Victoria stopped.
The dispatcher was still talking in her ear.
Marcus closed his eyes.
Sophia seemed to realize what she had said.
Victoria stared at her.
“You knew?”
Sophia looked toward Marcus.
He did not defend her.
That hurt more than Victoria expected.
Paramedics arrived eleven minutes later.
Police followed because Victoria reported suspicious circumstances involving an unknown substance.
Marcus was taken to Northwestern Memorial Hospital conscious and responsive.
The empty vial was secured.
The bowls remained where they were until investigators documented the scene.
Sophia was asked not to leave.
Victoria stood near the windows while strangers moved through the home she had shared with Marcus for nine years.
Then one officer asked her:
“Mrs. Cole, did your husband have any reason to want you impaired tonight?”
Victoria almost said no.
Instead she looked at Sophia.
Her sister was sitting rigidly near the kitchen.
Then Victoria remembered what was scheduled for nine the next morning.
May you like
A meeting with the trustee of the Bennett Family Trust.
And suddenly dinner felt less like a marriage turning violent.
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