"Sounds like you haven't had the best experiences with roommates. Including your parents," Lila noted.
"That would be true. Which is why for the last couple of years, I've just been on my own."
She put the last slice of the cake onto the last plate and followed Lila out into the dining room. By the time she got to the table, everyone had already been served. The woman celebrating her birthday smiled at her.
"You enjoy that one!" she gushed. "Thank you for the surprise!"
She smiled and started back across the dining room to the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder toward a voice that called out to her, and when she turned back around, she ran right into someone. A reflex had her grab for the cake, and her hand sank down into it.
"I am so sorry," she started.
"No, no. It's my fault."
She looked up and saw an incredibly handsome man smiling down at her. His dark eyes danced in his chiseled face, and the lightweight black sweater he wore accentuated wide shoulders and a broad, strong chest.
"I should have been watching where I was going," she said.
"I shouldn't have been walking right in front of you. I wasn't paying attention. Oh, look at your hand. You're covered in..."
"Tiramisu torte," she filled in.
"My favorite," he smiled. He swept his finger over the cream on her hand and tasted it. "Delicious."
She looked away to try to conceal the blush coming to her cheeks.
"I should probably get this into the kitchen. Enjoy your dinner."
She walked around him into the kitchen and set the plate down on the counter. Looking down at her hand covered in cream, she sighed and rolled her eyes, then went to the sink to wash it off. Clean again, she went back out into the dining room and found the man still standing where she left him.
"You left so fast I didn't even get a chance to introduce myself. Come here," he said. He led her over to a table near the front of the restaurant and gestured to a man who looked very similar.
"This is my brother Daniel. He's what distracted me and made me run into you. He must have mistaken you for our waitress because I know he would never be so rude as to shout at anyone who walked by just because he wanted water."
"Hello, Daniel," she said.
Daniel barely acknowledged her.
"And this is Payton, and this is my son, Peter. I'm Michael Blair. What's your name?"
Their eyes met, and she felt warmth spread through her in a way she never experienced.
"I'm Everly Zara."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Now
“I don't understand,” Michael Blair frowns. “You said it was a suicide. I've been believing that she killed herself, and now all of a sudden, you're calling it a murder? How does that even happen?”
“Sometimes the evidence isn’t as clear as we’d like it to be,” Sam explains. “A scene can look one way and lead to specific conclusions, then with further investigation, we find out it’s different. It happens. It’s unfortunate, and I'm sorry you have to go through this.”
“I'm essentially having to find out the love of my life died twice. First, with the guilt and devastation of thinking she took her own life. Then I have to hear it again, only this time it's that someone took her from me in my own house. And I wasn't here to protect her. All this when I've just buried my three-year-old son. You couldn't possibly understand what that feels like,” he says.
Sam shakes his head.
“No, I can't. And I'm not going to say that I can. But what I do understand is Everly deserves people to know what happened. She deserves justice. That's what we're trying to do for her. We just need to know what happened, and we can make sure she gets that.”
Fighting tears, Michael throws up his hands and sits back on the couch for a second before leaning forward again towards Sam.
“What I need to do? Just tell me what I can do to help, and I'll do it,” he says.
“We'll start with a few questions. Tell me again where you were the night before the morning Everly died,” Sam says.
“I already told you. I was at my mountain cabin. It's a few hours from here, and the cell service isn't good. That's why nobody was able to get in touch with me.”
“Was anybody with you at the cabin?” Sam asks.
“My son had just died, and people were blaming my fiancée, who I entrusted him to. Who do you possibly think I would have at the cabin with me?”
“I'm not trying to offend you,” Sam protests softly, trying to calm him down. “I’m not making any judgments or assumptions. I just need to know the facts.”
Michael rubs his hands over his face.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just on edge.”
“That’s understandable,” Sam nods.
“No, no one was with me. I went up there because I wanted some time to myself. I needed to think about everything that was happening and just get away from the chaos.”
“Who was handling the final arrangements for Peter?” I ask.
“No one at first,” Michael says. “The sheriff here will tell you I was told they needed to keep his body for a few days for further investigation. I wasn’t in a place where I could start thinking about a memorial service or anything like that. I wanted to talk to Payton before I did anything, and I just didn’t want to talk to anybody.”
“Did you do anything at the cabin that would record your presence there or prove how long you were there? Electronic locks, security cameras, anything like that?”
Michael gives a short laugh.
“Not at that cabin. It’s not a mini-mansion tucked in the trees if that’s what you’re envisioning. It’s fairly rustic. Just the basics. I did talk to a ranger the second day I was there. My land butts up against a park, and sometimes the rangers venture onto my property. I ran into one while I was out taking a walk, and I talked to him for maybe five minutes.”
“Would that Ranger recognize you?” Sam asks.
“Absolutely. They all know me. His name is Jared Perkins,” Michael says.
“Great. Just a couple of more questions.”
Before Sam can say anything else, the door to the house swings open, and Daniel Blair stalks inside.
“Please tell me you aren't answering these people's questions without a lawyer here,” he demands.
“I don't need a lawyer, Daniel,” Michael says. “I don't have anything to hide. They're just asking me basic questions.”
“Any time a cop asks you a question, you should have a lawyer with you,” Daniel says.
“Is there a problem here?” Sam cuts in. “We’re just asking questions.”
Daniel rolls his eyes and looks back at his brother.
“Don't buy into the good old boy act, Michael. He's looking at you. You know it. Any time some woman gets herself killed, the first person they're going to look at is the guy she latched herself to.”
“Don't talk about Everly that way,” Michael snaps angrily.
“You don't need to try to protect her now, Michael. She pissed somebody off enough to make them kill her, and you're at the top of their list,” Daniel says. He looks at Sam. “You need to leave. My brother isn't with proper counsel and won't be answering any more of your questions.”
“Your brother is a full-grown adult and can make the decisions for himself,” I point out.
“In all the time you're wasting standing around here asking him questions, you could be out finding the actual person who did this. Not that it bothers me too much that she's gone, but it seems to me you wouldn't want whoever it is getting into another one of these manors and doing it again,” Daniel says.