Chapter 6 - The Web Tightens
The estate was placed under immediate lockdown.
By 3:00 AM, the grand foyer of the Sterling manor looked like a precinct briefing room. Uniformed officers stood at every exit, checking IDs and confiscating phones from every employee, cook, gardener, and board member who had been on the grounds when Margaret’s body was discovered.
Emily sat at the small mahogany desk in her turret suite, the glow of her laptop casting long shadows across the walls.
The door was locked, but she could hear the heavy thud of footsteps pacing the hallway outside. Nathan had refused to go to his own room. For the past two hours, he had been walking back and forth past her door like a caged animal.
Knock. Knock.
Emily stood up and opened the door.
Nathan looked exhausted. His tie was gone, his shirt rumpled, his eyes bloodshot. He didn't wait for an invitation; he walked past her into the room and collapsed into the armchair by the window.
“Vance is questioning the staff downstairs,” Nathan said, rubbing his face with both hands. “He thinks it’s a suicide. He’s ready to close the case by morning and sign off on the death certificate.”
“He’s lazy, or he’s being paid off,” Emily said, closing the door and walking over to her desk. She tapped the screen of her laptop. “I’ve been cross-referencing the estate’s visitor logs with the corporate server access records for the past forty-eight hours.”
Nathan looked up. “And?”
“Margaret didn't make that tea herself,” Emily said, turning the laptop screen toward him. “Mrs. Gable stated under oath that Margaret only drank green tea imported from Kyoto, prepared in a specific silver pot kept in her private pantry. But the tea found in her cup was English Breakfast.”
Nathan frowned. “English Breakfast? My mother hated black tea. She said it tasted like dirt.”
“ Exactly,” Emily said. “Which means someone brought that tea to her study. Someone she trusted enough to let past the door at midnight.”
Nathan stood up slowly, walking over to the desk and staring at the data on the screen. “Who had access?”
“Only three people besides you, Mrs. Gable, and myself,” Emily said grimly. She tapped three names highlighted in red on the screen:
Arthur Pendelton – Board member and long-time legal counsel.
Spencer Sterling – Nathan’s younger half-brother.
Vanessa Reed – Margaret’s personal secretary and niece.
Nathan’s jaw dropped. “Spencer? Spencer was in New York all week.”
“His corporate jet landed at Logan at 10:00 PM,” Emily said, sliding a digital flight manifest across the desk. “He cleared private security at the North Gate at 11:15 PM—twenty minutes before Mrs. Gable heard the teacup break.”
Nathan stared at the screen, the blood draining from his face. Spencer was his half-brother—the product of his father’s second, secret marriage before the old man died. Spencer had spent his entire life in Nathan’s shadow, living off a multi-million-dollar trust fund while whining about being passed over for the CEO position.
“My brother,” Nathan whispered, the words tasting like ash. “My own brother.”
“We don't have proof yet,” Emily cautioned, placing her hand gently on his arm. “If we go to Detective Vance with server logs and flight manifests, he’ll dismiss it as circumstantial. We need a confession, or we need the physical evidence.”
“Where would Spencer keep it?” Nathan asked, his eyes hardening into ice. “If he poisoned her, he’d want to get rid of the remaining cyanide before Vance searches his quarters.”
“The carriage house,” Emily said immediately. “It’s off the main security grid. Your mother had it locked up ten years ago, but Spencer kept a set of duplicate keys from when he stayed there in college.”
Nathan didn't hesitate. He grabbed his overcoat from the back of the chair and headed for the door.
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“Nathan, wait,” Emily grabbed her jacket. “You can’t just storm in there. If Spencer is armed—”
“He’s my brother,” Nathan said, his voice ringing with a cold, lethal finality. “And he just murdered my mother in her own home. Let’s go.”
