Chapter Nine
Jess read Adam’s text and assumed he was finished with his conversation with Hess. Because of the transmission delay, she’d just heard the part of the conversation where Hess complained about changing the passwords on the bank accounts. (What an idiot, by the way. Of course the new financial manager would change the passwords. It wasn’t a personal affront. It was basic security.)
She felt a little guilty about the fact that she’d been draining the battery on Adam’s phone—but only a little. She wouldn’t have been forced to snoop if he hadn’t shut her out.
She yawned and stretched. Goodness, this Hess guy sounded like a whiny little prick. She supposed it felt awful to be kicked out of your lifelong job to be replaced by your boss’s fiancée, but man, if he was always this nasty, then maybe it was good riddance.
As the end of the conversation sputtered through her speakers, she got up and prowled through the mini-bar, looking for a snack. She was debating between a can of Pringles and a Toblerone when Hess said, “...she canceled on me to have a fancy brunch with some reporter. She’s more interested in being interviewed for some stupid magazine than in actually learning the wine business.”
Alarm bells went off in Jess’s brain and the can of Pringles fell to the floor.
Celeste’s cover was that of a lifestyle reporter. Was she the reporter Hess was referring to? Did Celeste have brunch with Helen on Thursday morning? And if so, was that suspicious?
She wondered what Adam thought about that little tidbit. “Oh shit,” she said, realizing that Adam hadn’t even been in Celeste’s apartment when they were discussing covers. He didn’t even know that Celeste had been posing as a reporter.
Before she could overthink it, Jess grabbed her laptop, her Wi-Fi hotspot and her wig. Instead of waiting for the elevator, she ran down the three flights to the lobby, only pausing to tug on the wig. Her Uber app said it would be a twelve minute wait for a car, and there were no taxis waiting at the hotel entrance.
“Damn,” she swore, pressing the button on her phone for the Uber. Anxiety wouldn’t let her sit down. The woman at the front desk pretended she didn’t notice Jess pacing around the lobby like a lunatic. “You’re overreacting,” she told herself aloud. Why was she so nervous at the thought of Celeste eating a meal with Helen? After all, being a reporter was Celeste’s cover and how she gained access to the estate. It made perfect sense that she would interview the bride for her feature story.
Also, Celeste didn’t get sick—the first time—until late Friday night. If Helen had poisoned her at Thursday brunch, that didn’t make much sense from a timing perspective. Of course, neither did Celeste’s mini-recovery and ultimate demise.
“Ohhh...” Inspired, Jess flipped open her laptop and began to code a research algorithm for the web. When her Uber arrived, she climbed in the backseat and just kept typing. It took the entire ride to Fielding for her to code the logic to her satisfaction. Concentrating on the timing of the last three days, she entered in the symptoms and the trajectory of Celeste’s illness. If she hit the right databases, these parameters would have to narrow down the toxin, which might be an important piece of the puzzle.
“Fielding Winery, miss.” The driver gave her a pointed look in the rearview mirror and Jess wondered how long they’d been parked in the entrance while she tapped away on her keyboard.
“One sec.” With a last flourish, she told her program to emit a loud ding if any promising results came in. Then she set her new baby to run, closed the laptop and climbed out of the car.
It was quiet on the estate. The tasting room had closed an hour earlier and most of the other staff was off, since it was Sunday. The thick clouds in the sky darkened the vineyard, making it seem later than it actually was. The engagement party events were all off-site today. The men had played golf earlier and the women were spending the day and dinner at a resort in Calistoga.
She walked up to the mansion and considered knocking on the massive front door and asking for Chase. She straightened the wig on her head and wondered if Adam would be furious to find her here.
She tried the front knob and was surprised when the door simply swung open. The house was almost silent, but she could hear dishes clanging and oriented herself to the noise. Yes! The kitchen. That’s where she should go. Maybe someone there could confirm that Celeste had indeed eaten with Helen. Because if she was wrong about this, she was going to hightail it out of here before Adam even knew of her presence.
Only two people were in the kitchen—the cook Jess had spoken with during the wine tasting, and a harried-looking young man wearing a Fielding Winery golf shirt. When Jess entered with a tentative wave, the cook gave her a big smile and then shooed the young man out of the kitchen. “Go home now. Everyone’s gone except Mr. Todd and this young lady’s fella.”
“Sorry to bother you,” Jess apologized.
“No bother at all!” the cook exclaimed. “I remember you and that lovely red hair. Did you decide to skip the ladies’ spa trip? Can’t say I blame you. If I had a young man as handsome as yours, I’d rather spend time with him too. He and Todd decided to take their dinner in the billiard room. Should I fix you a plate?”
“Not quite yet.” Jess pulled out her phone. “This might sound odd, but I wanted to ask you a question about Thursday morning. I heard that Helen ate with a reporter over breakfast.”
The cook beamed. “Yes! This wedding is causing quite a stir. Helen was being interviewed for Luxury Today magazine!”
Jess slid through her pictures until she found the picture she and Celeste had taken to torment Adam. It showed Celeste in profile, whispering in Jess’s ear. For a moment, Jess felt a fraction of the sadness Adam must be fighting. Celeste was tough and pushy, but Jess had liked her. With a few more conversations, she could have become a friend.
She showed the photo to the cook. “Was this the reporter?”
The cook adjusted her glasses. “Yes! Such a pretty one. You know her too? I was intimidated about the big interview, you know. I was so nervous at what to serve. I mean, what if the reporter remarked on the food? I had no idea what to make. Initially I thought my famous banana pancakes, but then I realized that a fancy reporter probably wouldn’t eat carbs. So then I wondered about a vegetable frittata...”
Ding! Ding! Ding! A tiny, tinny sound coming from her bag. Jess froze. Her computer program had found something. While still nodding and smiling at the cook’s brunch monologue, she pulled the computer out of her bag and set it on the counter. “That must have been very stressful,” she contributed, setting off another diatribe about the difficulties of using egg whites and soy milk to satisfy diet trends. She opened the screen swiftly and scanned the program’s results.
Based on Celeste’s symptoms and the timing of her illness, the algorithm found only one likely candidate for the poison—Amanitin mushrooms.
Ignoring the cook’s diatribe on veganism, Jess started scanning the data on the stages of amanitin poisoning. The first state is a latency period of six to twenty-four hours after ingestion where the victim feels fine, but the toxins are already actively destroying the kidneys and liver. The next stage is a period of about twenty-four hours when the victim suffers through severe abdominal cramping, violent vomiting and bloody diarrhea.
The third stage was the kicker—a twenty-four-hour period during which the victim appears to recover. Followed by stage four, a relapse, when the kidney and liver failure happens, leading to death. Jess gulped, reading through the research. The mushrooms were so deadly that if the victim didn’t receive immediate medical attention after ingestion, the risk of fatality was extremely high. One article on the North American Mycological Association’s website wrote, “If you have any reason to suspect that someone has ingested an amanitin-containing mushroom, DON’T WAIT for symptoms to appear! There is no antidote for amanitin poisoning, and the best hope is to rush the person to the hospital where the toxins can be removed before being fully absorbed into the body.”
Unbelievable, Jess realized. If Celeste really had been poisoned on Thursday morning, she was a dead woman walking by the time they’d seen her at the party on Thursday night. They couldn’t have saved her, no matter what. Devastating, but maybe this knowledge would help Adam feel less responsible.
Of course, this was all still a very big “if.” Bracing herself, she interrupted the cook. “So what did you decide on for the big Thursday brunch?”
The cook looked sheepish. “Turns out I didn’t need to work myself into such a lather. Helen decided on the menu. She was right about everything, as usual. Mushroom omelets were the perfect entrée. Large enough to keep you full, but not overwhelming like a red meat protein first thing in the morning. The omelets also went perfectly with the grapefruit starter.”
Jess went cold all over. Helen had decided on the mushroom entrée. Helen had eaten with Celeste and apparently was doing super fine today. Helen must be Celeste’s partner, Celeste’s killer. But why?
Oblivious to Jess’s frantic thinking, the cook kept chattering. “This family just loves mushrooms. Todd and your handsome man are eating steak sandwiches piled high with them right now. It’s Todd’s favorite dish, so Helen put it on the menu for him today while she’s at the spa. She didn’t know he’d have a guest for dinner, but there was more than enough for two.”