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there’s any possibility this attack was personal?” Castille said.
    “It was to me.” Chance put his fist to his mouth and swallowed hard. “But if you’re asking whether I think someone deliberately targeted my parents, I doubt it. Everybody liked Mom and Dad.”
    “You’re sure about that?”
    “As sure as I can be.”
    “So you think they were just unfortunate victims of a random attack?”
    “I don’t know what else to think,” Chance said. “I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt them.”
    “So you never heard anyone threaten them—even in jest?”
    “Never.”
    “No estranged friends? Neighbors? Relatives?”
    Chance heaved a sigh. “No, sir. Not that I know of. They’ve had the same friends and neighbors for as long as I can remember. They played bridge with a lot of them or knew them from the country club.”
    Stone glanced at the report. “Okay, I see you’ve already given us their names and phone numbers. I think we’re done for now. If something comes up that we have questions about, we’ll be in touch. We appreciate your talking to us. I know this has been a terrible ordeal.”
    “Deputy Castille, I have a question,” Emily said. “How many people were poisoned?”
    “Sixteen. Six died—one from Marcotte’s food bar and five from Gaudry bottled water.”
    “Is that brand of water still on the grocery shelves?” Emily said.
    “No, it’s been voluntarily pulled from the shelves in Les Barbes. And there’s also been a state recall on all bottles with that expiration date, originating from the Lafayette plant.”
    “I thought plastic bottles were tamperproof,” Emily said.
    “Tamper resistant .” Castille arched his eyebrows. “I doubt any containers are truly tamperproof. If a person is determined, he can get into almost anything. What else?”
    “That’s all. Thanks,” Emily said.
    The two deputies rose to their feet and shook hands with Chance.
    “We’re very sorry for your loss,” Castille said.
    Doucet nodded. “We’ll do everything in our power to find out who did this.”
    “Thank you,” Chance said. “I know you will.”
    Emily linked her arm in his as the deputies walked out to the kitchen. “Are you all right?”
    “Would you be?”
    Dumb question , Emily thought. “Whoever did this is not going to get away with it.”
    Chance exhaled. “I wish I were as confident as you are.”
    “It’s serious enough that the authorities won’t quit until they figure out who’s responsible.”
    “I hope you’re right.” Chance got up and pulled Emily to her feet. “I’ve got to go to the mausoleum and make sure the prearrangements are in order. And then I need to meet with Monsignor Robidoux at Saint Catherine’s. I’m not religious, but Mom and Dad would want a Catholic funeral.”
    “I’ll drive you,” Emily said.
    “I thought you were working the dinner shift at Zoe B’s.”
    “I was, but Zoe sent me a text and said not to come in—that business was almost dead at the moment. I’m here as long as you need me.”

     

    Jude hung up the phone and looked out his office window. Across the street, the stately Saint Catherine Parish Courthouse stood tall and proud, its white pillars taking on a soft yellow glow in the evening sun. A perfect picture if it weren’t for the media mob out front.
    Aimee walked into his office, her hairdo wilted but her demeanor cool and calm. “You wanted to see me, Sheriff?”
    “Yes, you can leave the door open. Take a seat.”
    Aimee pulled up a chair next to his desk and sat.
    “Officials from the Department of Health and Hospitals have arrived,” Jude said. “I want you to fill them in and give them whatever they need.”
    Aimee’s jaw tightened. “We can do this without DHH.”
    “Maybe,” Jude said. “But sixteen people poisoned with cyanide—six of them fatally—was bound to turn a few heads in Baton Rouge. The governor wants to make sure this thing is contained before it becomes a statewide risk. We