“When Keller drinks, use the blue bottle on Rourke.”
Victor Hale’s recorded voice came from the phone lying between the crystal glasses.
No one at table fourteen moved.
The recording continued in the same controlled tone Victor had used moments earlier while threatening Claire.
“Give the second dose three minutes.
He must remain conscious, but he cannot be steady when they enter.
Put the vial in his inside pocket.
Send the audio file at nine seventeen.”
A soft electronic tone followed.
The scheduled message had finished playing.
Adrian Rourke looked at Victor across the white linen.
His expression did not change, which made the silence around him more dangerous than anger would have been.
Dean Keller still held Victor’s wrist.
“Let go of me,” Victor said.
Keller tightened his grip.
“You ordered a second dose,” he said.
“What was the first?”
Victor stared at Claire instead of answering.
“She made that recording.
She took my phone.
She had access to the table before we arrived.”
Claire kept one hand on the silver tray.
Rourke’s original water glass remained beneath the folded service cloth.
“I had access to the dining room,” she said.
“Not to your voice, your phone, or the message you scheduled before you walked over to threaten me.”
Victor turned to Rourke.
“You cannot seriously believe a waitress over the man who has kept you alive for twelve years.”
The words landed harder than Victor intended.
Twelve years of trust had been placed on the table beside a poisoned glass.
Rourke glanced at Keller.
“Move his hands where I can see them.”
Keller pulled Victor’s arm behind him and forced both palms onto the linen.
One of Rourke’s other men stepped in to hold him there.
Victor resisted only once.
Then he saw the attention of the entire room and became still.
Rourke looked at Claire.
“Start with the glass.”
Claire uncovered the water tumbler she had removed from his setting.
Under the candlelight, nothing appeared unusual.
The water was clear.
The rim was clean.
No powder floated in it.
No color had changed.
“Why did you replace it?” Rourke asked.
“Because it was filled from the blue-sealed bottle,” Claire said.
“The table order called for the clear one.”
“That could be a service error.”
“It could have been, until Mr.
Hale warned Jenna to use the blue seal before she reached the table.
It also could have been an error until I saw Keller’s wine glass turned toward the service aisle.”
Keller looked at the Bordeaux glass near his right hand.
“What does the position mean?”
“It identifies the seat,” Claire said.
“A person approaching from behind can see the stem angle without seeing the guest’s face.
The wrong glass tells the server where the prepared drink goes.”
Victor gave a contemptuous laugh.
