Marit’s tears were gushing audibly, and she turned toward a dumbfounded Zac in the distance, pouting. “Darling, you don’t believe him, do you? Why would I be an enemy of the Turnbulls?”
“Hmm…?”
Frank was caught off guard—this was not part of the plan.
Marit turned back toward him just then, her lips parting slightly to speak in a wavelength that only Frank could hear. “That’s for hooking up with that woman.”
While Frank was left speechless, Zac bellowed, “Frank Lawrence! Release my wife, you bastard!”
He lunged at Frank like an angry tiger, but Frank easily sidestepped him and tripped him.
“Are you crazy?” Frank snorted in disdain as Zac landed on the floor. “Your wife’s already dead. That’s just an empty house, controlled by insects.”
“I don’t believe you!” Zac bellowed even as he scrambled to his feet and jumped at Frank again.
“Darling, help!” Marit cried miserably, playing along to his tune.
However, her eyes flashed with contempt ever so subtly.
“Let her go!” Zac continued, this time going all out with his martial arts.
However, Frank dodged him easily again and sent him flying with a kick when he tried to take Marit away.
Wheeling on Glen right then, he snapped, “Are you just going to watch your brother mess around?!”
“Silence!” Glen glared coldly at Frank as he came to his senses, his temple veins bulging as he could still taste mop water. “Do you have proof that Marit is the South Sea Crow?”
“Yeah, where’s your evidence?”
“From where we’re standing, you’re the South Sea Crow!”
“How are you fine when we’re all poisoned?!”
Frank almost snapped at the Turnbulls’ obvious contempt.
Thankfully, Vicky walked up and clapped him on the shoulder, and he took a deep breath to calm down.
Scowling at Glen, he kicked Marit to the floor and lifted her hair, revealing a beetle-sized bug latching onto her nape.
“Open your eyes. She’s dead!” he snapped coolly. “She’s now just a puppet—or, if you still doubt me, roll up her sleeves to see the decay on her body!”
“Impossible!” Zac bellowed, his eyes red even as he limped from the distance. “She just came back from abroad, and she brought us that wine… Wait.”
Zac paused.
Could it be…
He turned in disbelief toward the red wine on the table.
“Exactly,” Frank said bluntly. “Rot earwig eggs have been planted into the wine, and it’s just a matter of time after you drink it. As for those who did not drink the wine, I’m sure you’ve picked up the scent of Marit’s perfume? That’s been laced too. In short, every person here has been hit without knowing it.”
Frank’s explanation actually satisfied the Turnbulls.
However, Zac remained the exception, and he sat limply on the floor, staring blankly at Marit.
“Marit, are you really?”
“I’m not, darling! Don’t listen to him! Why would I be the South Sea Crow… Heh!”
Marit kept crying and complaining until her lips curled up into an eerie smile.
