She was pretty sure she was more scared of losing Michael than she was of going to jail. She’d done nothing wrong, and there was no way Nate Wright allowed her to be railroaded no matter what Caleb said. Caleb’s own paranoia was coming to the surface in this case.
But the idea that Michael might believe she was capable of committing murder was a real possibility.
And despite the fact that she knew why he might think that way, she wasn’t sure how they could move forward if he turned his back on her.
Ty had shifted in his seat and reached for her hands, covering them with his own. “I don’t think so. I don’t think this was a mistake. I don’t think it was an accident. I can’t be completely sure until the toxicology report comes back, but I’m certain someone killed that man.”
“That man who harassed Lucy,” Michael pointed out.
Having Ty hold her hand made her feel far steadier than before. He wouldn’t turn away from her. He probably wouldn’t even if he thought she’d done it. “I’m fairly certain he’s harassed a lot of people.”
“But only one of them was in his room when he died,” Michael replied, his tone grim.
“Michael, I didn’t do this.” She got the feeling she would have to assure him more than once.
Her calm refutation seemed to make him stop. His blank expression fled, and he looked down at where Ty’s hands covered hers. “I know that. I’m mentally going over scenarios of how this plays out. I want to think ahead. Nate’s going to ask you a lot of questions.”
“And I’ll answer them.” She would talk to Gemma, but she didn’t agree with Caleb about not talking to Nate at all. If she could clear this up quickly, that would be best.
“I’m not sure you should do that.” Michael was back to pacing.
“You’re the one who told me I didn’t need a lawyer,” she pointed out.
“I think the sister freaking out made Michael change his mind,” Ty replied.
“She immediately accused you.” Michael huffed, putting both hands on the conference table. “She didn’t even ask why you were there. She looked down at the body and said you did it. There were other people in the room, but you were the only one she mentioned.”
She was also the one Sonya would have recognized. “I was the only one who had fought with Brock. Well, the only one in the room. Apparently he got into a huge fight with his brother.”
Michael nodded. “Yes, I heard some of the security guys talking about something happening in the villas the night before last. I didn’t listen too closely, but it sounded like a party that went wrong. Is that why Brock was here instead of the villa his family owns?”
“I suppose so. It would also explain why the Scotch was moved. He wouldn’t have had access to it in the villas. Though it makes me wonder why he wouldn’t simply move it to his room.” It was time to start asking some questions of her own. “If he wanted it served to him, it should have been kept in the main bar.”
“Do people usually have reserved bottles?” Michael asked.
“Sometimes.” She’d studied up on the lodge’s practices. “The villas keep stocked bars, but sometimes the liquor requires different storage. Like an expensive red needs to be kept in a cellar. We’ve got a part of our wine cellar reserved for villa guests to store their wine. Sometimes a guest will bring an expensive bottle but prefers to not keep it in their room. Maybe they have other guests in the room they don’t want to share with or they’re worried they’ll drink too much. Then we’ll store it at the bar and have a room service attendant bring them one or two glasses. There’s a small fee for that, and they’re expected to tip. We’re required to get a signature in case the guest later on claims we didn’t provide the service.”
It happened. There were plenty of guests who sought to take advantage of the “customer is always right” attitude most resorts held. It usually cost the worker their job.
“So at some point in time, Brock would have packed his stuff and sent his precious Scotch down to the bar,” Michael mused. “The question is how did it get from the main bar to the one set up for the party. Who would have been involved in setting up? Was Van Dean in charge of that?”
She didn’t think Van had anything to do with Brock’s death. Though he had mentioned he’d taken a couple of punches at the party gone wrong. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean he moved every bottle. It was kind of chaotic today. I’m sure we can find a list of who was working the day shift.”
“And there are cameras in and out of the ballroom.” Ty sat back, seemingly more comfortable now. “There are a few inside the ballroom.”
Michael nodded. “Yeah, I’ll ask the security head to lock down that footage. We need to go over it and see if we can find who brought that bottle in.”
“It could have been a mistake.” It would have been easy to pick it up and put it with the rest of the bottles. “It had to have been marked or they wouldn’t have realized it was gone and found it. If we hadn’t been so swarmed, I would have sent the bottle back to the main bar and had them handle it.”
She wished she had, wished she hadn’t worried about being late with the delivery. If she’d been a little less concerned, she wouldn’t be in this position.
And then someone else would be.
Of course that someone else probably wouldn’t have had a complicated relationship with the deceased.
“Did he say anything to you before he took that drink?” Ty asked.
“He made a bunch of comments about how pathetic small-town people are, me in particular, but I would bet he would say the same things about anyone who doesn’t have a billionaire father, so I didn’t take too much offense.” She had never cared what a guy like Brock Foster thought about her. He didn’t matter to her life, so she would never have gone out of her way to change his mind. “Then he refused to sign the bill until I…” She’d totally forgotten about what he’d said. The last hour and a half seemed like a blur, but now she remembered something important. “Until I brought the bottle up. He promised he would call down every fifteen minutes for a new glass unless I brought him the bottle.”
“So he didn’t ask for the Scotch to be kept downstairs?” Michael stared at her like this was an interrogation. And she supposed it was. It was definitely a preview of what would happen when Nate questioned her.
It was coming back to her. For a while all she’d been able to think about was how the man had died, the blank look in his eyes and how he’d convulsed and then gone still. Now she was calmer and could recall what had happened before. “He said his sister thought he would drink less if the bottle wasn’t in his room.”
“The sister who thinks you killed him?” Ty pushed his chair back.
“I would bet it was Sonya. He has two sisters, but I don’t think Kendall would care how much he drank.” She didn’t know a lot about their family dynamics, but she was certain Sonya was the caretaker of the group.
“I’m going to go make sure Nate knows where we are.” Ty started for the door but it opened before he could reach for the handle.