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In the wine room, Casey selected a ’97 vintage, Nuits-Saint-Georges Grand Vin de Bourgogne. It was her last bottle of the Burgundy and, she decided, an excellent choice. It had been good enough to tempt Grace into drinking.

Carrying the dusty bottle, Casey went to the kitchen and took down two glasses. Before carrying them out to the pool house, she went into the bathroom with one of them, closed the door, and opened the secret wall vault behind the medicine chest. She pulled out the sole item in there—a small cobalt blue bottle she’d put in there two years before—opened it, and using an eyedropper, carefully moved the tip around the wineglass’s inside edge, squeezing the bulb gently as she did so. There was a shine where the clear liquid coated the lip, so she blew on it gently until it dried.

She had only used it once before, the afternoon Grace died, and she knew the venom cocktail she’d paid six thousand dollars for was worth every penny. After making sure the wineglass was the one of the pair that had a small crack in the base, she replaced the blue bottle and went out to the kitchen, where she placed the wine bottle and glasses on a tray.

She lifted Deana to her hip. “Mary, I’ll be right back. Make some coffee.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Casey wanted Alexa to be at ease, so she decided that Deana’s presence would be disarming and distracting. She lifted the tray, and started for the pool house.

“We’re going to see Alexa, honey. And, sweetie, Alexa is not your friend. I’m your only friend. I’m the only friend you’ll ever have.”