Innocent in Death (In Death #24)(36)

Hadn’t stolen anything, extorted anyone. Hadn’t cheated on his wife.

Having lunch wasn’t cheating, she thought as she carted her coffee to her desk. Banging another woman like a steel drum a dozen years before marriage wasn’t cheating.

Roarke wouldn’t cheat on her. She could rest easy on that point.

But would he want to? That was the sticker.

And that had nothing to do with Craig Foster.

She sat, braced her elbows on the table, and rested her head in her hands. She just had to clear her mind, that was all. Clear it out. Should probably take a blocker for the goddamn stupid headache pounding inside her skull.

Annoyed, she yanked open the top drawer, knowing Roarke had left a case in there with the little blue pills inside. She hated taking pills, but she’d never be able to think unless she popped one.

She swallowed the blocker, chased it with coffee as Galahad jogged in to get a running start for the leap to her desk. He plopped his ass down and stared at her.

“I’ve got to work.” But it was an odd comfort to run her hand over his head and have him stretch under the stroke. “I’ve got to be able to work or I’ll go crazy.”

Shifting, she inserted the data discs she wanted to run first.

“Computer, cross-reference both employee and client list, disc A with student guardians, administration, faculty, and support staff lists, disc B. Report any matches.”

Acknowledged. Working…

“Secondary task, standard data run on all names on disc C, include criminal, financial, employment, marital, education.”

Acknowledged. Working…

Maybe something would pop on one of the parents or child care providers who’d been in the building that morning.

“Subsequent task, display data on faculty, administration, and support staff of Sarah Child Academy, in alpha order, on wall screen one.”

Acknowledged. Data displayed on wall screen one…Primary task complete. No matches…

“Yeah, that would’ve been too easy. Using the same lists, cross-reference search for family relations, former spouses or cohabs.”

Acknowledged. Working…Secondary task is now complete. Choice of display?

“Display on comp screen.” Sitting back with her coffee, she studied the data.

There was nothing hot. A couple of hand slaps here and there—the ever-popular illegals possession for personal use, a four-year-old shoplifting charge. No violent crimes, no cage time for any.

Before she began on the data on her wall screen, she closed her eyes and let her mind wind back through what she knew, what she wanted to know.

Poison in the hot chocolate. Thermos unattended and accessible at several points during the morning. Habitual.

“Wait.”

She sat up, eyes narrowed, then tried another angle. She contacted Lissette Foster. “Lieutenant Dallas,” she said. “I’m sorry to disturb you. I have a couple of questions. You made the hot chocolate yourself, every morning.”

“Yes, I told you. I made it for him.”

“You ever drink it?”

“No. Too many calories,” she said wearily. “I used some real chocolate along with the soy milk and the powdered mix. He didn’t know.”

“Sorry?”

“Chocolate’s so expensive. He didn’t know I bought it, added it in like my mother always did. He liked it so much, said no one made it like I did. It was the half ounce of real chocolate I mixed in every morning.”

“Anyone else know about that addition?”

“My mother. She taught me how to make it. I mentioned it at work, I’m sure. Sort of bragging about it. I think I might have told Mirri. It was just a little secret from Craig. He wouldn’t have wanted me to spend the money on him.”

“I noticed the mix in your kitchen, and the stash of liquid chocolate inside a box of Vital Fem.”

Now Lissette smiled, just a little. “He’d never poke around in my vitamins, so I kept the chocolate there.”

“We sent the mix and the liquid to the lab. Anyone else know where you kept them?”

“The mix, maybe. Not the chocolate. You think…”

“The lab will determine if any of the ingredients were tampered with. Was anyone in your apartment the weekend before your husband’s death?”

“No.” She rubbed her eyes wearily. “I don’t think so. I was out for a while on Saturday, shopping. But Craig was home. He didn’t mention it.”

“Does anyone have a key, a spare? Your code.”

“Mirri does, for emergencies. But—”

“Okay. Your building doesn’t have security cameras or a doorman.”

“We couldn’t afford one that ran to those. It’s a nice neighborhood. We never had any trouble.”

“All right, Mrs. Foster. I appreciate the time.”

So here’s a what-if, Eve mused. What if person or persons unknown accessed the Foster apartment, knowing the habits. Poisoned the powder. Maybe Craig had a visitor he hadn’t told his wife about.

Or…Maybe it didn’t have to be the day before, she thought. Maybe he’d lucked out a few times, hadn’t gotten any of—or not enough of the poison.

She pulled up her lab report, read off the contents of the go-cup. There was no real chocolate listed.