Chapter 5 - The Missing Poison Glass
The event manager led Connie down the concrete breezeway toward the locked chain-link storage enclosure behind the kitchen. Walter and I slipped along the outer wall, keeping low behind the tall rows of outdoor propane heaters.
"Here are the leftover boxes from the Mendoza-Vance reception," the manager said, unlocking the padlock and swinging the heavy gate wide. "The two plastic totes marked 'Head Table' have all the personalized glassware and decor. Take what's yours and sign the release form on the clipboard."
"Fine, just leave me alone to check them," Connie snapped, shoving past him.
The manager rolled his eyes, muttered something under his breath about difficult wedding parties, and walked back toward the kitchen, leaving the storage door ajar. Connie immediately dropped to her knees in front of the plastic crates, tearing open the lids with frantic, clawing motions.
She pulled out customized napkins, gold-painted candle holders, and unopened bottles of champagne, tossing them aside recklessly until she found the velvet-lined box containing the toast goblets. She opened it, saw both crystal glasses inside, and let out a shuddering gasp that sounded like half a sob and half a sigh of relief.
"Looking for this, Connie?" I said softly, stepping into the cage and pulling off my ballcap.
Connie spun around on her knees, the crystal glass clutched in her right hand. The moment her eyes locked onto my face, the color drained completely from her skin. Her mouth fell open in a soundless scream, her eyes bulging as though she were staring straight into the mouth of hell.
"A... Arthur?" she choked out, scrambling backward until her spine slammed against the chain-link fence. "No... no, it's impossible. You're... you're at the county morgue. Leticia said your heart gave out!"
"I woke up on the slab, Connie," I said, walking forward slowly, every step heavy with cold authority. "I lay there under a white sheet while my bride of twelve hours tried to have me burned to ash before noon. And do you know what else I heard? I heard her tell Octavio that you and she had a deal."
Connie began shaking violently, clutching the glass to her chest like a shield before realizing what it was and dropping it onto the padded foam inside the crate. "Arthur, please! Oh God, Arthur, you have to believe me! I didn't know she was going to kill you! I swear on our mother's grave, I didn't know!"
"Then what was the deal?" Walter demanded, stepping into the doorway and blocking the only exit, his imposing frame casting a long shadow over her.
"They had papers!" Connie sobbed, burying her face in her hands. "Six months ago, Octavio came to my shop. He showed me documents proving that my late husband had taken half a million dollars from an offshore investment fund they managed. He threatened to go to the FBI, to have me arrested for grand larceny as an accomplice! He said the only way they’d erase the debt was if I introduced Leticia to you and convinced you to marry her!"
"You sold me out to loan sharks and black-market grifters to save your own skin?" I shouted, my voice cracking with suppressed agony.
"They promised me they only wanted your commercial drilling contracts!" Connie wept hysterically, tears smearing her heavy makeup. "They said Leticia would divorce you after a year, take a settlement through the corporate accounts, and pay off my husband's debt! But when you collapsed on the dance floor last night, Leticia cornered me in the restroom. She showed me a video of me introducing them, said she'd frame me as the poisoner if I didn't steal the wedding glass before the police started asking questions!"
"She played you, Connie," I said, looking down at her with cold disgust. "Just like she played me. And if I had burned in that crematory today, who do you think they would have pinned the murder on the second Valerie questioned the will? You."
Connie looked up, the realization hitting her like a sledgehammer. She slumped against the fence, weeping uncontrollably.
May you like
I leaned down and picked up the crystal glass engraved with my name, handling it carefully by the stem with my gloved hand. Around the inner rim, a faint, crystalline residue caught the morning sun.
"We have the evidence," Walter said, pulling a clean evidence bag from his jacket. "Now, Arthur... we take down the entire empire."
