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Authors: Catherine Coulter
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her substantial bosom, murmuring her outrage and relief.
Veronica sat a bit apart from the family, and Guthrie sat on Venus’s other side, his hands dangling between his knees, looking like he wanted a drink. Alexander stood behind the sofa, at Venus’s back, resting his hand lightly on her shoulder. Savich looked back and forth between father and son. Were one or both of you feeding Venus arsenic? But if so, why would you be so stupid as to be the only ones present?
Alexander looked up and stiffened. His handsome face hardened, he straightened to his full height and sneered. “So you’re finally here. Are you going to tell us what you’re going to do about this?”
Savich smiled. “Good evening, everyone. Venus, how are you feeling tonight?”
She looked relieved when she saw them and pulled away from Hildi. “I’ll survive, Dillon, but the Bentley’s going to be in the shop awhile.” She looked a bit pale but solid, like she’d weighed what had happened, tucked it away, and faced forward. She was wearing a lovely black silk blouse that flowed loose over black slacks, her French pedicure on display in her open-toe gold sandals. Amazing. Try to kill her and you get a fashion plate. She was a formidable woman.
Venus waved them forward. “I’m so glad you’re both here. If you want to speak to MacPherson, he’s in the kitchen having his dinner. Mr. Paul grilled him a porterhouse steak, MacPherson’s favorite, as a thank-you for his saving my old hide. Poor MacPherson—I’ll bet he’s having to listen to Mr. Paul complain about a team of federal techs coming into his kitchen to look for poison. Poison! He was quite incensed, but I don’t doubt he was relieved when they left. He assured me they wouldn’t have found anything.
“As you see, everyone is here, waiting for you. Everyone is eager to hear your ideas on who’s behind this. Now, please sit down. I expect everyone will gird their loins and cooperate.” Her words were bright and strong, but Savich saw the tension lurking in her eyes. He knew her well enough to see she was drawn tight as a bowstring after the wild shootout, and without knowing if anyone here was responsible. But she was playing the matriarch and, even more than that, the corporate executive, always in charge, always in control, even with her life on the line. Did the family resent her for being able to do that, or admire her strength? Or a bit of both?
Savich and Sherlock greeted every Rasmussen present, turninglast to Alexander, who met them with his habitual sneer, and finally, Veronica, who gave them a wobbly smile. After they’d sat down on a love seat facing Venus and accepted coffee from Isabel, Venus cleared her throat to draw everyone’s attention and said in a firm, matter-of-fact voice, “I’ve explained to the family that your FBI lab has confirmed what I thought. Someone has been slowly poisoning me with arsenic over the past month. Apparently the poison wasn’t working fast enough, and so they launched the direct attack this afternoon. I survived only because MacPherson was a hero, nearly ran the attacker down with the Bentley.” Venus’s eyes glittered as she looked at each of them in turn. “I’m very thankful Dillon and Sherlock were still outside and actually caught the man.”
Alexander said, “Grandmother told us his name is Vincent Willig and he will survive.”
“Yes, he will,” Savich said.
“So, has he agreed to tell you who paid him to kill Grandmother?”
Venus said, “Not as yet, Alexander, but I have some ideas about that,” and she gave Savich a smile, her chin up.
Veronica leaned forward. “Yes, thank you both very much for catching that horrible man. Maybe now this nightmare will stop.”
Hildi said, “How can it stop, Veronica? This Willig criminal isn’t the one who was trying to poison Mother.”
Glynis looked up. “Mother and I could move in.”
“Yes, we could,” Hildi said, and once again hugged Venus. Venus
Veronica sat a bit apart from the family, and Guthrie sat on Venus’s other side, his hands dangling between his knees, looking like he wanted a drink. Alexander stood behind the sofa, at Venus’s back, resting his hand lightly on her shoulder. Savich looked back and forth between father and son. Were one or both of you feeding Venus arsenic? But if so, why would you be so stupid as to be the only ones present?
Alexander looked up and stiffened. His handsome face hardened, he straightened to his full height and sneered. “So you’re finally here. Are you going to tell us what you’re going to do about this?”
Savich smiled. “Good evening, everyone. Venus, how are you feeling tonight?”
She looked relieved when she saw them and pulled away from Hildi. “I’ll survive, Dillon, but the Bentley’s going to be in the shop awhile.” She looked a bit pale but solid, like she’d weighed what had happened, tucked it away, and faced forward. She was wearing a lovely black silk blouse that flowed loose over black slacks, her French pedicure on display in her open-toe gold sandals. Amazing. Try to kill her and you get a fashion plate. She was a formidable woman.
Venus waved them forward. “I’m so glad you’re both here. If you want to speak to MacPherson, he’s in the kitchen having his dinner. Mr. Paul grilled him a porterhouse steak, MacPherson’s favorite, as a thank-you for his saving my old hide. Poor MacPherson—I’ll bet he’s having to listen to Mr. Paul complain about a team of federal techs coming into his kitchen to look for poison. Poison! He was quite incensed, but I don’t doubt he was relieved when they left. He assured me they wouldn’t have found anything.
“As you see, everyone is here, waiting for you. Everyone is eager to hear your ideas on who’s behind this. Now, please sit down. I expect everyone will gird their loins and cooperate.” Her words were bright and strong, but Savich saw the tension lurking in her eyes. He knew her well enough to see she was drawn tight as a bowstring after the wild shootout, and without knowing if anyone here was responsible. But she was playing the matriarch and, even more than that, the corporate executive, always in charge, always in control, even with her life on the line. Did the family resent her for being able to do that, or admire her strength? Or a bit of both?
Savich and Sherlock greeted every Rasmussen present, turninglast to Alexander, who met them with his habitual sneer, and finally, Veronica, who gave them a wobbly smile. After they’d sat down on a love seat facing Venus and accepted coffee from Isabel, Venus cleared her throat to draw everyone’s attention and said in a firm, matter-of-fact voice, “I’ve explained to the family that your FBI lab has confirmed what I thought. Someone has been slowly poisoning me with arsenic over the past month. Apparently the poison wasn’t working fast enough, and so they launched the direct attack this afternoon. I survived only because MacPherson was a hero, nearly ran the attacker down with the Bentley.” Venus’s eyes glittered as she looked at each of them in turn. “I’m very thankful Dillon and Sherlock were still outside and actually caught the man.”
Alexander said, “Grandmother told us his name is Vincent Willig and he will survive.”
“Yes, he will,” Savich said.
“So, has he agreed to tell you who paid him to kill Grandmother?”
Venus said, “Not as yet, Alexander, but I have some ideas about that,” and she gave Savich a smile, her chin up.
Veronica leaned forward. “Yes, thank you both very much for catching that horrible man. Maybe now this nightmare will stop.”
Hildi said, “How can it stop, Veronica? This Willig criminal isn’t the one who was trying to poison Mother.”
Glynis looked up. “Mother and I could move in.”
“Yes, we could,” Hildi said, and once again hugged Venus. Venus
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