“Sheriff,” a feminine voice called out.
All heads turned as Nell strode into the room. There was an unmistakable air of excitement about her. Henry followed behind her, though at a more sedate pace.
“I thought you were going to call,” Nate said. “And how did you get here? I turned the code back on after Lucy and her men came up.”
Henry lingered near the hallway. “I don’t need a code, Sheriff. One of the fun things about having my past out in the open is I don’t have to pretend anymore. I can use all my skills out in the open. As to why we didn’t call, Nell wanted to tell you in person.”
“We’ll leave you to it then.” Sonya gestured to her sister. “Let’s go. We need to call Dad.”
Nell gasped. “Are you Sonya Foster?”
The blonde’s head came up, a superior expression on her face. “Yes, I am. And I’ve been through too much to have to deal with a second more of this town’s nonsense.”
Nell pointed at Sonya. “J’accuse, mademoiselle. J’accuse.”
Michael stood. Nell knew something, and he trusted her. This was the moment when things could get dangerous. He moved in front of Lucy and Ty, placing his body in the line of fire just in case. Ty stood beside him. His first instinct was to tell Ty to sit back down, but Ty would want to be with him, both of them protecting Lucy.
“What is this about?” Sonya asked. “And who the hell is this woman?”
“My name is Nell Flanders, and I protest you and all your earth-killing businesses,” Nell announced.
Behind him he felt Lucy stand. She went on her toes, her hands against his back for balance. She was trying to watch the shitshow that was absolutely about to go down.
Michael glanced over at Henry, who was relaxed and watching his wife with a lazy indulgence.
He trusted Henry’s instincts and relaxed a bit.
“I am not about to stand here and listen to the ravings of a lunatic,” Sonya began.
“I will,” Slate said.
“I will, too,” Agent Wallace agreed. “What have you discovered, Mrs. Flanders?”
Nell paced like she was the detective in an Agatha Christie novel. “The question is how did the killer get the poison in the first place. Lucy rarely leaves Bliss, and she doesn’t have a lot of contact with anyone who would know about poison. The Foster Corporation is known primarily for sporting goods, but that’s not really true, is it?”
“We have lots of companies.” Kendall looked around like she’d finally figured out something was happening. “I’m going to be a buyer for our new fashion line. We’re calling it Kendall 4Eva. Get it? Because that’s my name. My first name is Kendall and my middle name is Eva.”
Nell ignored her entirely. “But when you look deeper at the corporate infrastructure, you find out a lot of the money is made in minerals and gas and oil.”
“I don’t see what our corporate infrastructure has to do with the fact that a waitress killed my brother,” Sonya insisted. “Has anybody even checked her room? She has to have kept the poison somewhere. We’ve all been stuck in this building. She couldn’t have taken it too far to dump it.”
Oh, she’d planned this carefully. How long had she had that poison? She traveled in private jets. It would have been fairly easy to transport. Security was different on private airlines, and if she’d stored it as a powder, she wouldn’t even have been questioned if she’d hidden it properly. She could have disguised it as a beauty product, and no one would call her out on it.
“Lucy turned over a bag of a white substance she found in the bathroom of the room she’s staying in,” Nate admitted. “It’s waiting to be tested.”
Lucy’s arm wrapped around Michael’s waist, and he could feel her tension.
“See.” Sonya pointed toward Lucy. “You should arrest her.”
“But why would she turn it in if she did it?” Even Kendall seemed to see the problem. “That doesn’t make sense. She’s not a very good murderer.”
Nate kept his eyes firmly on Sonya. “We also talked to one of the maids who admitted putting it there. Now, she got the baggie from a man who paid her two hundred cash to stash it. She was a might bit miffed that Ty didn’t call her after they…well, did what Ty does.”
“Used to do,” Ty argued. “I only sleep with one person now. Well, one person and Mike.”
They were going to have to work on how to talk about their relationship in public. “Still a person, Ty. But we understand. You’re a changed man and this Ashley isn’t happy about the change. It was smart to put a couple of layers between the person who wanted that poison in your room and the one who actually put it there. That took planning.”
“It won’t matter,” Nate acknowledged. “Ashley claims she doesn’t remember the man’s name, but I can find him. I wonder who would have paid for that extra service.”
Kendall took off her glasses. “Holy shit. You think it was us? Huh. It wasn’t me. I don’t have cash. I lost a thousand dollars in a Starbucks and Daddy said I can’t have cash anymore.”
“Oh, it certainly wasn’t you.” Nell continued to pace. “You aren’t the one who recently spent time in Johannesburg.”
Kendall’s nose wrinkled in obvious distaste. “Eww. Why would I go there?” She frowned. “Where is that?”
A low huff came from Sonya, but she ignored her sister instead, turning toward Nell. “No. I did. I was there on business. I go to a lot of places. What does that have to do with it? And I don’t like being accused of this.”
“I’m sure you don’t. You’ve been very careful,” Nell said. “I suspect you’ve had this plan in mind for two years.”
“Why two years?” He was interested in watching Nell work. He had to wonder if Nate was allowing her to control the conversation out of sheer amusement. He was giving the novelist her Sherlock Holmes moment.
“Because the new will of one Bob Foster was filed then,” Nell announced with a nod of her head. “Now, that will is not in the public record, but Gemma found some old social media posts from Brock Foster. He says shortly after the will was filed that he just became a king.”
“I can get the will,” Slate promised.
Kendall made a vomiting sound. “He’s such a prick. He thinks he’s a king because Daddy was putting him in charge of every…”
“Kendall,” Sonya barked.
Kendall stopped and stared for a moment. “But that’s what happened. It’s okay to talk about because we didn’t do this.” Her lips pursed and then there was a sheen of tears to her eyes. “You didn’t do this. You can’t have done this. He was our brother.”
“Of course I didn’t,” Sonya insisted.
“You were the one who went to Harvard.” Nell’s tone had gone sympathetic. “You got the grades. You did the work. But your father thought a man should be at the head of the table. I’ll be honest, I am against murder, but I am also against misogyny.”
“Nell, focus, please,” Michael warned. He’d spent enough time with Nell to know exactly where this could go. He wasn’t going to listen to an hour-long lecture on the history of women in business. “You were telling us why you j’accused her. That was a nice touch. Very international.”