Chapter 3
They called it calming.
Of course they did.
Not poisoning.
Not sedation.
Calming.
Meredith insisted the substance in the tea was meant only to make me drowsy.
No details.
No dangerous amount.
No permanent harm.
That was her defense.
I almost admired the cowardice of it.
“What happened while I was calm?”
Neither answered.
I looked at Spencer.
He broke first.
“Meetings.”
“What meetings?”
“With captains.”
“Mine?”
“Yes.”
“Without me?”
He nodded.
There.
The tea was not the objective.
Time was.
Meredith created a predictable window where I became slower, tired, willing to postpone decisions.
Spencer used that window to meet men who believed they were discussing matters with my approval.
“How?”
He swallowed.
“You would tell us you wanted quiet.”
I did remember that.
Several mornings over the past month, exhaustion hit suddenly after breakfast.
I assumed poor sleep.
Stress.
Late nights.
I told staff to cancel calls.
Perfect.
Spencer would then say:
“Adrian’s resting. I’ll carry it.”
Carry what?
My authority.
I looked at Meredith.
“You used my daughter to make sure I drank it.”
Her eyes filled.
“I needed you to trust the cup.”
There.
Finally.
Honest.
If Meredith served it directly, I might notice.
If Iris carried it with both trembling hands, I saw my child.
Not the tea.
That was the ugliest part.
She used affection as camouflage.
Then Julia returned with the physician.
He did not give me a chemical name.
Only the conclusion.
“The tea contains a sedating agent.”
I looked at Meredith.
“Enough to harm me?”
“Not likely at that concentration.”
Interesting.
“Enough to impair judgment?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Spencer sat back.
His shoulders dropped.
As if “not lethal” helped him.
It did not.
Then the physician added:
“There’s something else.”
He had examined residue from two previous cups still sitting in the kitchen dish rack because Julia had not yet sent them away.
Same trace.
Three mornings.
Confirmed.
Meredith had lied about “helping” once.
This was repeated.
Planned.
Then Rafe entered carrying a leather folder from Spencer’s car.
Inside were six typed names.
Six senior Moretti captains.
Underneath:
INTERIM CONSENSUS.
May you like
I looked up.
Spencer finally understood the tea was only the first layer I had found.
