“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.”
Nell frowned but continued. “Like I was saying, two years ago Sonya Foster realized that everything she’d worked for was going to be handed to her brother. That was when she started trying to find a way out. Agents, did you know that Brock Foster has been involved in two strange accidents in the last eighteen months?”
“That is interesting,” Agent Wallace allowed. “What happened?”
“He was taken to the hospital when the horse he was riding bolted and nearly killed him,” Nell explained.
“That was stupid hunters,” Kendall argued. “He said it himself. Someone was shooting and his favorite horse was known for being jumpy. It was an accident.”
“And then he was also nearly killed when the brakes in his brand-new vehicle went out,” Nell continued.
“The dealership admitted they didn’t do a proper check on the car.” Sonya’s voice had gone toneless. “None of this explains how someone got poison into his drink. The only one who could is Lucy or the bartender.”
“Not at all.” Nell seemed to relish her role. “On the night of the party your brother gave in the family villa, you helped him move into the suite after he and Chet fought. We’ve got security camera footage of you walking him to the suites. You were the one to convince him to move, not Chet.”