She lifted her finger and pointed out the window.
“Take a left at the stop sign.”
I turned.
“You can pull over right here,” she said.
She opened the car door and punched in a code that opened the gates into a long drive.
“Nice place,” I said.
“It’s my Uncle’s winter home. We only use it a few months out of the year during ski season.”
It looked like a smaller version of the Hearst mansion. I couldn’t imagine what his summer home must be like.
“I’ll walk from here.”
“Can I call you if I have any other questions?” I said.
“All I want right now is to get away from him and to put this behind me, for good this time.”
“At least let me give you my card so you can call me if you need to,” I said.
She took the card and turned toward the gate.
“Thanks for the ride.”
CHAPTER 20
“Monkshood.”
“Monkshood?”
“Yep.”
“What is it?” I said.
“That would be our cause of death,” Maddie said.
“It hardly sounds dangerous.”
“The Greek’s didn’t call it the Queen of Poisons for nothing,” she said.
The light from the sun blinded me. I yawned and reached out to adjust my curtains and then closed them all together. I wasn’t ready to get up yet.
“So does that mean Charlotte was––”
“Poisoned,” she said.
“How?”
“It’s ingested or absorbed into the system, and in this case, she ingested it, a lot of it,” Maddie said.
Audrey was right.
“I can’t believe it.”
“It’s possible someone gave it to her before she went skiing,” she said.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because this stuff has nasty side effects.”
“Such as?”
“Paralysis of the facial muscles and the heart,” she said.
“Wow.”
“It also dulls vision and my guess is that at some point she couldn’t see where she was going.”
“That explains a lot.”
“It’s nasty stuff, and the sad thing is, when her body started to break down she was probably still with it and conscious right up to the end,” she said.
“Any chance she came across it on accident?”
“I don’t see how,” she said.
“It was premeditated then.”
“And the killer never thought they would get caught,” she said. “Whoever did this assumed her death would be ruled an accident and didn’t take time to consider there might be a toxicology report.”
“Their world of disillusionment is about to change.”
“The drug works fast, and based on the amount I found in her system, death probably came within a few hours from the time she ingested it, maybe less.”
“That gives me a good place to start.”
“Go get him, sister,” Maddie said. “And jack his shit up.”
CHAPTER 21
In light of what happened to Daniela and the fact Charlotte was poisoned, I decided the time had come for my big reveal.
I knocked on door 312.
No answer.
I tried again.
Still no answer.
Maybe last night’s antics turned him off women for the moment. Then again, for a womanizer such as himself, that didn’t seem logical.
After the third try I gave up and went back down the hall. A door opened behind me.
“Sloane, hold up.”
Jackpot.
I casually turned my head.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, “I thought you were someone else.”
“It’s me.”
I gave it a minute to sink in. It didn’t.
“It’s the hair,” I said, “no hat today.”
The dumfounded look on his face turned into a smile and he bobbed his head up and down.
“Wow, I thought you were a brunette under the hat you had on, but the black––I like it.”
“Thought you would,” I said, and I stepped into the dragon’s lair.
“What do you think?” he said.
“It’s nice, very umm, contemporary.”
I hated contemporary. The metal fixtures around the room reminded me of a jail cell. They were stale and ugly and felt hard and cold. The style suited him.
“Would you like to look around?” he said.
“I thought we could get to know each other better first.”
“I hoped you would say that,” he said.
“Can I offer you a drink? Wine, beer, or perhaps a cocktail of some kind?”
Knowing what I needed to say, I considered it. But, I knew better. I shook my head.
“Mind if I do?”
“Go right ahead,” I said.
He walked past me to the kitchen with a slight limp.
“Hurt yourself?” I said.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I had a long night.”
“Sounds like quite the party.”
Parker smiled but stayed quiet while he mixed a frilly girly drink that consisted of vodka and cranberry juice and some other juice that might have been grapefruit. He even took the time to squeeze some fresh lime into it before he walked over and sat down on the sofa. He patted down the space next to him and looked at me.
I bit my lip and did my best to muster a smile and sat instead on the adjoining love seat across from him. He was undaunted by this and seemed to enjoy the friendly game of cat and mouse.
“Tell me about yourself,” he said.
“Why don’t we discuss you first?”
He crossed his legs and leaned toward me.
“Alright then, shoot,” he said.
I knew all I needed to know already except for whether he committed the murder. Time to find out.
“Do you know any real estate agents in the area?”
“That’s an interesting question to lead with. Don’t you have one already?” he said.
“I did.”
“I know every agent worth knowing around here, who was it?” he said.
“Charlotte Halliwell, know her?”
He sat his drink down on the table and cleared his throat––three times.
“Charlotte Halliwell, huh.”
I pushed harder.
“Do you know her or don’t you?”
“Oh, uh, no. Can’t say that I do,” he said.
I smiled and relaxed back into the sofa.
“Hmmm.”
“What’s so funny?” he said.
“You are.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I know you know her.”
“But I just said I didn’t,” he said.
“You know what I find interesting, Mr. Stanton?”
He jerked his shoulders.
“That someone like yourself could be engaged to a person they don’t even know. I mean, how does that happen?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
“And how did the others feel when they found out about the wedding? Were they jealous, heartbroken, or did you keep it to yourself?”
“Others?” he said.
He uncrossed his legs and stood up next to the sofa. I wondered if the hair on his arms stood up with him.
“The other women, of course. You never told them about Charlotte did you? None of them had a clue, did they?”
“Sloane, if that’s even what your name is, I assure you I––”
“I suppose the names Zoey and Daniela don’t ring any bells either, hmmm?”
Beads of sweat formed like a miniature rainforest on his upper lip. And I was just getting started.
“How do you know all this?” he said.
“Honestly, Mr. Stanton. If you want me to answer your questions maybe you should answer some of mine.”
He turned away from me. I had done something the other women couldn’t do and placed him in a position he wasn’t familiar with. I had become the cat, and the game wasn’t fun for him anymore.