Chương 6
“I’m sorry,” he said.
The apology was not elegant. It sounded unfamiliar in his mouth.
She sat at the kitchen table.
“Are you still at the estate?”
“Yes.”
“With Vivienne?”
“She’s upstairs with her mother.”
“Are you asking me about her again?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I’m asking about the man in the corridor.”
“I told the police.”
“You said he had a dark cuff link.”
“I said maybe.”
“Malcolm wore black onyx cuff links yesterday.”
Rowan pinched the bridge of her nose.
“So did at least twenty guests.”
“His left cuff link is missing.”
Her hand stopped.
“Since when?”
“He says he lost it during the reception.”
“Did the police search under the cake table?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“They won’t tell me.”
Rowan looked at the covered window.
“Nolan, don’t decide it was him because you need it to be someone.”
“You think I need it to be Malcolm?”
“I think you need it not to be Vivienne.”
He breathed in slowly.
“She knew her father asked about the cake schedule.”
“How do you know?”
“She told me.”
“Before or after the syringe fell?”
“After.”
“That matters.”
“I know.”
“Do the police know?”
“Yes.”
Rowan heard movement behind him, then a man’s voice asking whether he was ready for a call. Nolan said no and lowered his voice.
“There’s something else.”
“Then tell Detective Voss.”
“I did. I’m telling you because it affects why they may look harder at you.”
Rowan waited.
“The foundation I chair has been reviewing irregular transfers. Malcolm manages several accounts.”
“What kind of irregular transfers?”
“Money missing.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“Did Vivienne know?”
“She knew there was an audit. She says she didn’t know it involved him.”
“And did Malcolm know you knew?”
“Yes.”
“When did you tell him?”
“Yesterday morning.”
Rowan stood and walked to the sink, though there was nothing there she needed.
“What did he say?”
“That I was humiliating him on his daughter’s wedding day.”
“Were you planning to go to the police?”
“On Monday.”
“Why wait?”
“Because I wanted to get through the wedding.”
The answer was so human and so foolish that Rowan gripped the counter.
“You thought you could marry his daughter on Saturday and report him on Monday?”
“I thought I could separate what he did from who she was.”
“Can you?”
Nolan did not answer.
After the call, Rowan found her mother standing in the kitchen doorway.
“You’re talking to the groom now?”
“He called me.”
“Of course he did.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means rich people never arrive alone. They bring problems, lawyers, and upholstery.”
Despite herself, Rowan smiled.
Her mother opened a cabinet and took out a chipped blue mug.
“Be careful,” she said.
“I am.”
“No. You’re being useful. That isn’t the same thing.”
Detective Voss returned the following morning.
She arrived with another investigator and asked to see Rowan’s phone, employment records, and the clothes she had worn at the reception. Rowan handed over the burgundy dress in a paper bag. Her mother watched from the living room with open suspicion.
Voss sat at the kitchen table.
“The syringe contained residue,” she said.
“What kind?”
“We don’t have a final laboratory report.”
“But enough to know it wasn’t empty.”
“Yes.”
“Was it dangerous?”
“We believe it contained a concentrated prescription compound that could cause a serious cardiac event if ingested in sufficient quantity.”
Rowan’s mother gripped the arm of her chair.
“Could it kill him?” Rowan asked.
Voss chose her words.
“It could have caused severe injury or death. We don’t yet know how much entered the cake.”
Rowan thought of Nolan’s hand holding the knife. The lower tier had been positioned for the ceremonial slice. White roses marked the edge.
“Did you find the puncture?”
“We found two.”
“Two?”
“One near the decorative border. One deeper in the cake.”
A cold pressure spread through Rowan’s chest.
“So someone injected it.”
“That is one possibility.”
“What is the other?”
“That the residue was introduced another way.”
Voss removed a photograph from a folder. It showed Rowan’s access badge on a stainless-steel counter.
“Where was it?” Rowan asked.
“In the cake preparation room.”
“I told you Owen took it.”
“He says he returned it to you at five twelve.”
“He clipped something to my cart.”
“Did you look at it?”
“No.”
“Can anyone confirm you gave him the badge?”
“A server saw the reader fail.”
“Name?”
“Caleb. I don’t know his last name.”
“We spoke with him. He remembers the reader failing. He does not remember Mr. Rusk taking your badge.”
Rowan’s mother made a disgusted sound.
Voss looked toward her.
“Mrs. Hale, I need to ask your daughter these questions.”
“Then ask the man who had the badge.”
“We are.”
Rowan placed both hands flat on the table.
“Do you think I injected the cake?”
“I think your credential opened the room, your fingerprints are on the panel, and you knew how to remove it.”
“My fingerprints are there because I pulled it open in front of everyone.”
“Yes.”
“And if I wanted to poison him, why would I stop him?”
“To create a public rescue.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It has happened before.”
“Not by me.”
Voss’s expression softened slightly.
“I’m not saying it was you. I’m telling you what evidence exists, because pretending it doesn’t exist will not help.”
Rowan looked at the photograph again.
The badge had a faint black mark along one edge. Owen had rubbed it with his thumb after removing it from the reader.
“Can you check the service cart?” she asked.
“For what?”
“He clipped something to it. If it wasn’t my badge, maybe it was another card.”
“The carts were removed by the rental company last night.”
“Then get them back.”
The other investigator glanced at Voss.
Rowan heard the desperation in her own voice and forced it down.
“Please,” she said. “If he wanted me to think he returned the badge, he put something there.”
May you like
Voss wrote a note.
Before leaving, she paused by the door.
