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I shake my head.
“Laxative?” I blink, “Barbara died because of a laxative?”
Liam nods, “According to the autopsy. She was allergic, and the dose was too strong.”
“I didn’t do it. I didn’t even know she was allergic to laxatives,” I keep shaking my head, my body starting to tremble. “I noticed the guests filing up to use the restroom after the cupcakes were served. I wouldn’t have been that stupid to use it on everyone.” I try to think how any of this could be possible. Then I stop. “The apron,” I point at it and shriek as a small opening for redemption comes to mind, “I had it brought to my seamstress because it had ripped. It belonged to my grandmother and I am very attached to it.” I go closer. “She still had it the week before the wedding because I didn’t have time to pick it up, and I haven’t been to my store since then.”
“Then how did we find it in your pantry?” Liam demands.
“I don’t know,” I gulp, knowing that’s not good enough. “The only person who could have known the seamstress’ address is Ruth, my intern, because she dropped it off for me...”
“This is getting interesting,” Liam whistles. I honestly don’t care about what he thinks of me. However, I keep staring at Ronan, waiting for him to say something.
“Your intern?” Ronan compresses the apron in his hand, and I nod. “I will give you the benefit of the doubt, Olivia. It better be true,” he stomps out of the pantry.
It’s the truth.
Chapter Sixteen
RONAN
Day 5
Ruth Davis.
I grind my teeth. We don’t have the necessary proof to accuse her of anything. Chances are Olivia might be wrong, but still.
For the first time in this craziness, there is finally someone else in the picture to point at instead of her.
I cannot begin to imagine what all of this is doing to Olivia mentally.
I need to get this sorted and very fast.
Two days.
Two fucking days.
That’s how long I have to get this thing fixed. That’s how long I have to find the killer, or Cesare will expect Olivia’s head on a plate. And it will be either that or war.
I do not want her to pay for something she didn’t do, and while I might not have been able to relax and truly think through the situation, I want to believe my instinct. Olivia didn’t kill Barbara.
Some part of me knew this, but I had to keep my mind open to the possibility of any person being involved.
I have two days left.
We have two days left.
What do I do if this doesn’t go as planned? What can I do to make this go according to plan? What would be the right thing to do?
I scoff, mocking the question.
When have I ever thought about right and wrong?
Those things don’t matter in situations like this. You do what you must do, and your motive justifies it. And my motive is to protect Olivia, which is why whatever I do feels justified.
There is a knock on the door. I know it’s her.
I felt too betrayed by Liam’s report to stand around her. I needed time to think and to process the information I was getting.
