I frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"The samples weren't consistent with someone accidentally dropping an ingredient onto the table."
She paused.
"The white plate had a substantially greater concentration of the material than the other servings examined."
Leah pressed one hand against her mouth.
For several seconds, the room was silent.
Then Rebecca asked the question I'd been dreading.
"Mr. Turner, who was supposed to eat from the white plate?"
I swallowed.
"Eleanor Bell."
There was a pause.
Then the detective told us another piece of information.
Investigators had obtained an image from a message Vivian sent before the cookout. The message was among materials lawfully collected as the investigation developed, and the detective wanted me to confirm what it depicted.
She arranged for me to view it through the appropriate process.
The photograph showed our backyard table.
It had been taken from outside the fence before the cookout began.
The blue plates were arranged in a line.
The white plate sat at the far end.
A small mark had been drawn over the image.
Beside it were two initials.
E.B.
For several seconds, I stared.
Then I looked toward Rebecca.
"Those are Eleanor's initials."
The detective nodded.
The photograph alone didn't establish every detail of the plan.
But together with the lab findings, the recording, and Vivian's conduct, it pointed toward a deliberate focus on that particular serving.
My stomach twisted.
I thought about Eleanor laughing when I invited her.
About her promise to bring homemade lemonade.
And the way Leah had set aside a plate because she wanted our elderly friend to feel comfortable and included.
Somebody had taken that small act of kindness and turned it into a way to identify a target.
Leah began crying.
I put one arm around her.
Then looked at the detective.
"Does Eleanor know?"
Rebecca answered that investigators were arranging to speak with her and take precautions appropriate to the situation.
I nodded.
For a moment, I felt anger rising.
Then something worse.
Fear.
Because if Vivian was willing to contaminate an entire table of food to reach one person, I couldn't imagine what she might do next.
The message containing the photograph had been sent to a phone associated with Stonebridge Grounds.
The company name struck me immediately.
It appeared on the questionable drainage invoices.
Its van had been parked near our house shortly after Vivian left.
And now someone connected to it had received an annotated photograph of the food table before the suspected tampering occurred.
Detective Sloan wouldn't discuss every aspect of the ongoing investigation.