Page 106 of The Lost Heiress

“We’ll settle down somewhere,” Santos said. “Perhaps abroad. Saoirse’s talked about trying to start her own fashion line. I’ve always been interested in the markets, in investing.”

“Those sound like risky ventures,” Florence said.

“Well, luckily, we’ll have the means to take some risks,” Santos said. He coughed, cleared his throat.

“And what if your temperaments are not suited for one another?” Florence asked. “Saoirse can be headstrong, stubborn, and capricious. What if you fight often? Or you find her too combative? Or you grow tired of her constantly changing fancies? What then?”

“I think we’ll manage,” Santos said. He cleared his throat again. “Besides, we’ll have more means than most to be happy.”

“Take it from me,” Florence said. “Money is not a balm for unhappiness. I’ve lived around the rich for my entire life, and they have been some of the most unhappy, wretched souls I’ve ever met.” Florence clucked her tongue in disapproval. “I fear,” she said, “that you’re on a path to ruin both your lives, forever.”

Santos didn’t answer. His bowl clattered to the ground. He gasped for breath, clutched at his throat.

Florence picked up the fallen bowl and spoon and went to deposit them in the sink. She grabbed a dishcloth to clean up the spill.

Santos was on his knees now, his eyes large and bulging as he looked at her for help. He reached out an arm for her, tried to speak, but his throat was swollen shut.

“That’ll be the peanut oil I added to your soup, dear,” Florence said. “Don’t worry; this will all be over soon.”

Santos tried to crawl toward the door, but he didn’t get far. He collapsed by the hearth, and, after a moment, his body grew still and stopped moving.

Chapter Forty-Three

Present

Elena and Detective Church found Florence Talbot in the upstairs drawing room, sitting in one of the upholstered chairs next to the fireplace. Ransom Towers sat across from her on the tufted sofa. Both had their afternoon tea in front of them; they were going through the household accounts.

“Darling, I thought you went for a run,” Ransom said when they entered the room.

“I did, but I had to cut it short. It’s so hot out I can hardly breathe,” Elena said. She crossed over to her husband and gave him a small peck on the cheek before sitting next to him. “Anyway, look who I ran into on the terrace on my way back.”

“Detective Church,” Ransom said, sounding less than pleased to see him.

Church nodded his head. “Senator.” He looked over at Florence. “How are you today, Florence?” he asked.

“Tired,” she said, giving him a weary smile. “I’ve had two maids quit this week, and hiring has been a nightmare. I just interviewed a girl who had two visible body piercings and a face tattoo. At this rate, I shall have to scrub the toilets myself.”

Church smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today, Detective,” Ransom said. “Has something happened? Is there news?”

“They’ve identified the second body,” Elena said.

“They have?” Ransom said. He looked over at Detective Church expectantly. “Who is it?”

“I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information,” Church said.

“Well, why the hell not?” Ransom said.

Elena placed a calming hand on Ransom’s forearm. “Temper,” she said softly.

Ransom exhaled sharply. “I apologize, Detective. I’m normally a very patient man. But I’ve been patient for forty years now, and I fear if I practice any more patience, I’ll be dead and buried before the answers come.”

“I understand,” Church said. “And I promise you you’ll have your answers soon enough. But for now, I’m not authorized to divulge that.”

“Well, why come here at all, then?” Ransom said. “Just to bait us?”

“He came to speak with me, dear,” Elena said.