A Poisoned Package by Eryn Scott

Author:Eryn Scott [Scott, Eryn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-30T00:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

The next morning, Damien was behind the ticket counter when Ripley and I arrived at the theatre. We’d come early, since I wanted to leave around lunchtime to get my shopping done for Thanksgiving.

“Well, well, well.” Ripley rubbed her hands together, showing me that she thought we should jump at the chance to question Damien right away.

I couldn’t argue, especially since we were alone in the lobby. Veering to the left, I hiked my bag higher on my shoulder. I’d brought in a few of my own supplies today, knowing I would need different tools to create the effects I wanted for the second flat.

Damien didn’t even look up when I stopped in front of the ticket booth. Based on the list sitting on the counter and the candy in piles all around it, he was doing an inventory of the concessions now that Francine was gone.

“Say something,” Ripley whispered, hunching her body in discomfort at the growing silence.

“Are you taking over the ticket booth?” I asked, leaving off the unnecessary addition of now that Francine is dead.

Damien grunted. “Maybe.”

“A man of many words.” Ripley slapped her hand onto her forehead.

I opened my mouth, about to push him with a second question, when…

My vision narrowed to the stack of boxes behind Damien. To be more specific, boxes of chocolate truffles. The very same chocolates someone sent to Winnie on Saturday laced with fentanyl, and the ones responsible for the coma Julian was currently in.

Ripley swore as she noticed my silence and followed my gaze.

“Those aren’t for sale,” Damien said.

My attention flashed over to him. I hadn’t even realized he was looking at me, let alone noticing how much I was gaping at the chocolates.

“What are they for?” My voice wobbled, and I took a steadying breath.

As far as I knew, no one at the theatre was aware of Winnie’s scare with the chocolates. So, no one would be alarmed to hear me asking about them. A perk of Winnie’s secretive nature. But the way Damien’s icy gaze stabbed into me quickly reminded me that the one person who would know about the significance of the chocolates was the person who’d sent them. The person who’d tried to kill my neighbor.

“Petra buys them for our donors,” Damien finally said. He jotted something else down on his list. “Whenever they show up for a performance, they get one of those.” He started counting bags of Red Vines.

I gulped. “Petra buys them?”

“More evidence pointing toward her,” Ripley said in a singsong voice that sounded more like a cautionary tale than a joyful tune.

Damien’s eyes flashed with warning. “Francine bought them on Petra’s orders.” He went back to counting the licorice.

Francine. Who was now dead. Who Winnie told me not to bother looking into.

“Winnie would’ve recognized the chocolates. Don’t you think?” Ripley asked.

I tugged on my ear, letting my best friend know that I did. But even if I hadn’t been standing in front of Damien, I’m not sure if I would’ve been able to answer my friend.

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