“How could anyone know?” I asked.
Daniel looked toward her.
“Unless they were following you.”
Eleanor’s hands tightened around her coffee cup.
One of the attorneys spoke carefully.
“Doctors found nothing suggesting deliberate p/o/isoning or any obvious external cause. Her episode was consistent with an underlying cardiac condition.”
“So maybe it was coincidence,” I said.
Daniel shook his head.
“Coincidences don’t usually know mile markers.”
Then Eleanor surprised everyone.
“My granddaughter knew my route.”
Daniel turned.
“Claire?”
Eleanor nodded.
“I told her last night I was going to the bakery before coming here.”
Daniel’s expression remained unreadable.
“Anyone else?”
“Claire’s husband.”
That name changed something in the room.
Marcus Vale.
Even I knew it.
Vale Development.
Luxury hotels.
Commercial towers.
Private clubs.
And, according to business pages, one of Halston Capital’s largest borrowers.
Daniel looked toward Eleanor.
“Mrs. Halston, there is something you need to see.”
