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The officer nodded. “According to the tests run by the hospital, she was being slowly poisoned, which is why you found her collapsed in her apartment.”
“Oh my God.” Fallon covered her mouth with her hand.
“Mr. Morganville was counting on killing his mother for the insurance money on the gallery. He figured they’d label her cause of death old age or a heart attack and leave it at that. But she lived, thanks to you. And then he heard Mrs. Morganville tell you she was leaving the business to you, cutting him out of the lucrative real estate and gallery.”
She nodded. “She just told me recently and I was shocked. But—”
He held up a hand, indicating he wanted to continue. “When Mr. Morganville discovered you were an obstacle to his inheritance, he decided to get rid of you, too.”
Noah stiffened in his seat and she grabbed his hand.
“He watched you and waited until you were alone in the gallery, then set the fire in the other side, assuming you were too busy with your painting to notice until it was too late. And to make sure, he set the cement blocks by the front door, locking you inside.”
Oliver had attempted to murder her and Fallon was too stunned to speak.
“And Clara?” Noah asked.
“Was overwrought and they sedated her to keep her calm.” He went on to ask more questions about Oliver and his relationship with his mother and what Fallon knew about why he needed the money.
“He’s in custody?” Noah asked, obviously wanting confirmation.
“Yes. And with two attempted murder charges, both premediated, I don’t see him making bail. Not that he seems to have the money to pay it even if he did.”
“Good,” she said. “Good.” She rubbed her forearms with her hands, chilled from all the revelations.
The officer informed Fallon he’d call if he had more questions, then left them alone in the room.
She turned to Noah. “That was… a lot.”
“Your instincts about him were spot-on,” he said.
“I didn’t have murder on my bingo card.” She tried to make a joke of things but it fell flat, even to her.
Noah merely pulled her onto his lap and held her tight, neither of them saying another word.
***
Fallon couldn’t seeClara until the next day but she was waiting when the hospital opened the doors to visitors. She walked into Clara’s room.
Her friend, boss, and mentor lay in the bed, facing the window overlooking the parking lot.
“Clara?” Fallon said softly.
She turned, sadness etched into the grooves of her face. “Fallon, I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I came yesterday but they’d given you something to help you sleep.”
Clara gestured to the lone chair in the room. “Come sit.”
Fallon pulled the chair closer to the bed and lowered herself into it. “I’ve been so worried about you. I’m so glad to see you awake.”
“I’m fine now… or getting there. I’m still a little weak when I walk and need the cane. But I’m hoping the side effects will minimize over time.”
Fallon nodded. Silence fell and she wasn’t sure what to say or how to broach the subject of Oliver or Clara’s emotional state given what had transpired yesterday.
“Go ahead. Ask me. I see the wheels turning in your brain.”
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry about Oliver. How are you handling things?” She placed a hand over Clara’s. “And is there anything I can do for you?”