Chapter 4 - THE WAITRESS WITH NOTHING TO LOSE
Nora Ellis was twenty-seven.
She lived in a third-floor apartment above a laundromat in Bridgeport.
Her rent was eleven days overdue.
Her refrigerator contained half a carton of milk, two eggs, and a container of leftover rice.
Her younger sister, Mia, was studying nursing at a community college.
Nora had helped raise her after their mother died.
Money had always been a problem.
But until that night, Nora had believed hard work could at least keep disaster at a distance.
Then Whitcomb called.
"You're suspended."
Nora sat on the edge of her bed.
"What?"
"Pending investigation."
"I didn't poison that child."
"Nobody said you did."
"You told the police I was responsible for the drink."
"You served it."
"That doesn't mean I changed it."
Whitcomb sighed.
"Look, Nora. This is a very sensitive situation."
She closed her eyes.
"Am I getting paid?"
"No."
The answer landed harder than she expected.
She looked at the overdue rent notice on her kitchen counter.
"How am I supposed to pay my bills?"
"That's not my concern."
The line went dead.
Two hours later, someone knocked on her apartment door.
Nora froze.
Through the peephole, she saw a woman in a gray coat.
"Ms. Ellis?"
"Who are you?"
"Detective Sloan."
Nora opened the door.
Sloan stepped inside.
She looked around briefly, then turned toward Nora.
"We've reviewed some of the restaurant footage."
Nora's heart raced.
"And?"
"The camera near the private room doesn't show the table."
"I know."
"But it shows people entering and leaving."
Nora nodded.
Sloan continued.
"After you delivered the lemonade, someone entered the room carrying a small black case."
Nora frowned.
"Who?"
Sloan studied her.
"Marcus Bell."
Nora felt cold.
The detective continued.
"We're not drawing conclusions yet. But I want you to think carefully. Did anything else seem unusual?"
Nora remembered the sedan.
The driver who never moved.
The guests sent home early.
And something else.
A woman in a dark green dress had approached Marcus near the service corridor.
Nora had assumed she was a guest.
But she hadn't seen her at the birthday table.
"There was a woman," Nora whispered.
May you like
Sloan leaned forward.
"Tell me about her."
