Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Most of the people at the dinner party had never been through this kind of screening before, and you could see the curiosity in their eyes as the process unfolded.

Except for Bridget. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she started sniffling quietly.noveldrama

"Officer, please, can't you cut her some slack? Sylvia's so young-if this gets out, her reputation will be ruined!"

The cop's face was all business. "The law's the law. No one gets special treatment."

At that, a few of the designers who'd been standing near Sylvia quickly stepped back, obviously worried about getting caught up in the mess.

Sylvia lifted her head and looked straight at Bridget, her voice calm but icy. "Ms. Simpson, the results aren't even out yet. Why are you so sure I'm in trouble? Got a crystal ball or something?"

Bridget froze for a second, then wiped her eyes and stammered, "I just care about you, that's all. I was worried. Maybe I overreacted."

People glanced at Sylvia, and you could feel the judgment in the room-like she was being ungrateful.

Sylvia ignored them. She just kept her eyes on the little test kit in the cup.

Right then, the officer stepped forward and pulled the test strip out of the glass.

One line. Two lines...

Everyone stared in shock-except for Bridget, whose eyes went wide with disbelief.

"No way! That's impossible! It can't be negative, not a chance!"

People looked around, confused. Negative? But wasn't two lines...

Sylvia snapped back, her voice sharp. "None of us have seen these tests before, so how do you know two lines means negative, Ms. Simpson? Seems like you're awfully familiar with the kit."

Bridget realized too late she'd slipped up.

She pressed her lips together and hurried to explain. "Uh, back at my college, the local police did some workshops, so I... I know about these things."

"Of course," Sylvia replied with a cold little smile.

She'd known something was off ever since she drank the glass of wine Mark handed her. The instant that strange feeling hit her, she realized how serious things were.

There's a world of difference between accidentally ingesting something and taking it on purpose.

People had seen her clink glasses with Mark, so she couldn't really claim it was an accident. Destroying the evidence had crossed her mind, but he body wasn't cooperating-so when she got up, she quietly swapped her glass with another.

The cop examined the test strip, nodded, and asked, "Anyone else missing?"

Sylvia glanced over at Eloise.

Eloise caught on immediately. "Mark's not here he stepped out and never came back," she said, pointing to where Mark had been sitting.

The officer hurried over, grabbed Mark's wine glass, and ran the test.

Positive.

And judging by how quickly the test reacted, there was a heavy dose.

"Go find him-now!"

A few officers rushed out the door.

Sylvia stopped the lead officer.

"Wait, since someone reported this, could you test everyone else here and give us something in writing to clear our names? Most of us are well-known jewelry designers if rumors start flying, it could ruin our chances at the show."

She said it calmly, even helpfully-especially compared to Bridget, who'd started throwing her under the bus the moment she walked in. Sylvia came across as cool-headed and considerate.

People looked at her with new respect.

The cops agreed, leaving a couple officers behind to test everyone else. The

results were clear: besides Mark, no one had touched anything illegal.

With written proof, there'd be no way for Bridget to twist the story later. Just then, one of the officers burst back in.

"We found him!"

Everyone hurried after the police out the back door to the riverbank.

There, lying on the grass, was Mark-just pulled from the water. He was still breathing, but barely

conscious, his whole body covered in shallow cuts-like someone had attacked him with a scalpel, missing all the vital spots on purpose.

It was a hundred little wounds, but none life-threatening. Just enough to make

sure he'd remember this night for a long, long time.