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Murder.

  Leonila was the first person to get to the dinner party. It was a small affair, family only, and given that it was her family she wasn’t surprised that she was the only one on time. Even the hostess, her aunt Emiliana, wasn’t on time. 

  This would be the last time that happened. Deep in the pocket of Leonila’s dress sat a little glass bottle of arsenic. A few drops into Emiliana’s drink wouldn’t be noticed; that woman pretended to drink cocktails, but Leonila knew it was straight moonshine that tasted like lighter fluid. Leonila was amazed the moonshine hadn’t done away with the woman years ago. 

  Leonila took a glass of wine from a waiter, smiling as she thanked him. Emiliana never thanked anyone. She took what she wanted, claimed it as her own, and never acknowledged anyone’s help. Even if it was impossible for her to have done something alone. Maybe no one believed the stupid woman had actually done what she claimed to do, but no one had ever called her on it. People like Emiliana never get asked for things like proof. People like Emiliana only get asked where “the idea” came from, and since lying was second nature to her stealing Leonila’s ideas was easy. 

  Well, that was about to end. Leonila didn’t even want the credit she was due any more. She didn’t care about the money or the honors. She could start over. It didn’t matter.

  It only mattered that Emiliana wouldn’t be around to steal whatever she came up with next. 

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  Marcus got to the party four minutes past the hour, four minutes late. Not that it mattered; he knew that only Leonila would be there. 

  He liked his niece, she was the only one in the family who took things seriously. His sister, the hostess of this little party, was the one who took things the least seriously. She didn’t seem to care about anything that didn’t have an alcohol content. 

  She certainly hadn’t cared when Claire had died. She’d been drunk at the funeral. That explained but didn’t excuse the things she’d said. It didn’t excuse her acting like the death had been a good thing. 

  Marcus dearly hoped that there was an afterlife. He wanted Emiliana to watch her own funeral and hear everyone say that this was a good thing. More than that, he planned on bragging that he’d been the one to kill her. He’d announce it to the world, consequences be damned. She needed to die. 

  And, thanks to the help of a squinting man in a dark alley somewhere, all he had to do was dust her food with the dark red powder in his pocket. He didn’t even know what it was, all he knew was that it would cause her to die an extremely painful death. He always sat next to his sister at dinners, all he had to do was wait for her to turn away and it would be done. No one would say anything, he was sure. Oh, they might tell the police, but not Emiliana. 

  That was fine by him. 

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  Leon walked in half an hour after his sister, tossing his jacket to the butler. He liked the butler. He also liked the waiter who passed him a glass of wine. He liked Marcus and Leonila, who nodded at him from overstuffed chairs. He liked mostly everybody. 

  But he loved, truly loved, a dark-eyed beauty named Paige. He’d do anything for Paige. Anything up to and including murdering his aunt for separating them. 

  He didn’t know what Emiliana had said to Paige. He didn’t know what she’d done, or threatened to do. All he knew was that three days ago Paige had called him in tears and told him that they could never see each other again. 

  Leon knew his family. He knew everyone hated Emiliana. They just hadn’t had the courage to do anything about it. Well, Leon was about to do something.

  He’d bought a gun from a hooded figure who lived under a bridge. When dinner was over, when Emiliana went to the bathroom to fix her makeup as she always did, Leon would follow her. He would get just out of sight of the others and shoot her in the face. 

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  Possibly multiple times. 

  He had to make sure she was dead, after all, and people have survived shots to the head before. 

  Then he would toss the gun out a window into her picturesque koi pond, run back to his family, and claim he knew nothing about the gunshots. They would all look at him in that disappointed way, but they’d back him up. He was close enough to Leonila to know that she’d lie to the police for him.

  Then he’d find Paige and they’d live happily ever after. 

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  Marie got to the dinner on the heels of her cousin. She wasn’t worried about being late. She was the last one to arrive, other than her mother. Her mother wouldn’t come down until Jeffries, the butler, told her everyone was there. She liked making an entrance. 

  And that was the problem. Emiliana always had to be the center of attention. No one was allowed to be more important than her for even a moment. Not even her own daughter. 

  Well, Marie had had enough. Her childhood had been spent trying to make her mother proud, which was a lost cause. Her adolescence had been spent trying to make her mother notice her, which was also a lost cause. Thus far her adulthood had been spent trying to get out from her mother’s shadow. It seemed to be, predictably, a lost cause. 

  Marie had realized, after a night of drinking with her few friends, that it’s hard to cast a shadow from six feet underground. 

  Which is why Marie had brought a long, nasty-looking knife to the party. It was strapped to her leg, hidden by her skirt. After dinner, when they were in the parlor drinking spiked coffee and listening to Emiliana brag, Marie would pull the knife out through a slit in her pocket and stab her to death. 

  An elegant solution it was not, but Lord it would be satisfying. Her fingers twitched as she thought about it, eager to get the night on with. 

  She couldn’t wait. 

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  Jeffries knocked on Lady Emiliana’s door and informed her that all her guests were present. 

  She opened the door, and a wave of perfumed air poured out. 

  “Took them long enough,” she said, scowling. “Tell the cook I want dinner immediately. I’m starving.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He followed her at a discreet distance to the stairs. She stopped at the top and looked down into the parlor, as was her habit. 

  “Hello! So sorry to keep you waiting,” she lied. “Thank you so much for coming! I have an important announcement, but it can wait until after dinner, I’m simply famished.”

  Lady Emiliana put her foot on the first step, and her heel snapped. From the hallway entrance Jefferies saw her stumble, hit her head on the wall, and fall head over heels to the bottom of the stairs. 

  For a while no one moved. It was obvious her neck was broken, along with several other things. Eventually Jefferies walked down the stairs and checked her pulse. 

  “She appears to be dead,” he announced. 

  “Well damn,” Leon said, grinning. 

  “What a… tragic… accident,” her dutiful daughter muttered. 

  Marcus stood and made his way over to check for a pulse as well. “Dead. Now we’ll never know what her announcement was.”

  “Shame.”

  “Pity.”

  Somehow Jeffries didn’t believe the sincerity of the youngest two guests.

  Leonila got to her feet. “Someone ought to call the police. Once we do we won’t have the opportunity to eat for at least two hours. Shall we eat first, and then call?”

  Everyone agreed it was a good plan. Jeffries showed them into the dining room and went to tell the waiters that waitering was now required. When he walked past the dining room Leon called to him. 

  “You don’t happen to know what her big announcement was, do you?”

  “I believe she was going to announce her intention of moving to Argentina to marry some ambassador or other,” Jeffries said, his face neutral. “She has already given her staff two-weeks notice and begun packing.”

  The guests all looked at each other. Leonila started giggling. 

  Jeffries walked away as they broke into laughter and switched out Emiliana’s shoes. 

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