Leaning back in the hard chair, Dakota glanced at Warren.
“Mr. Luck provided fifty percent of the funding to open the business,” Warren replied. “But he’s not an owner and not involved in the day-to-day or long-term operation of the business.”
“Do you have access to rope at the club?”
“If I were to use one of the private suites that supplied rope, yes, but I don’t.”
“Do you own a sailboat?”
“No.”
“Do you ever go sailing?”
“No.”
The officer opened her laptop and showed them the video of Matt after the banquet. They watched the masked couple approach the bar and talk with him. “Is this you and Ms. Reynolds?”
“No.”
“This was your awards event,” said Beeker. “Who are these people?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see their faces.”
“So, it’s possible it’s you.”
“Why would my client pretend to be someone else?” Warren asked. “That makes no sense.”
“The two men had just gotten into a public altercation. Mr. Luck was humiliated in front of his professional community. Clearly, he has a short fuse because he put Mr. Hastings in a choke hold, then body slammed him.”
“Mr. Hastings assaulted my client,” Warren said. “Mr. Luck was defending himself.”
The officer fast-forwarded to Matt exiting the hotel with the masked woman. “This woman was the last person to see Mr. Hastings alive. You and Ms. Reynolds claim to have been at The Dungeon all night long.” Beeker snickered. “Come on, Mr. Luck, that’s the weakest alibi I’ve ever heard. The surveillance system is turned off in the club, and there’s a back door that conveniently doesn’t have a security camera. Why don’t you make this easy on yourself and confess?”
“My client is innocent,” Warren said. “Whatactualevidence do you have that makes him your primary suspect?”
Beeker ignored the question and continued staring at Dakota. The evidence wasn’t enough to charge him with murder. But his nightmare was far from over.
* * *
While waiting, Providence’s dad texted her. “Mom’s blood work results came back normal. Doc putting her on meds for Lyme and anemia.”
“Glad to hear blood work is normal. I’ll stop by over the weekend.”
Providence was convinced her mom did not have Lyme disease. She wanted to help her parents, but she had no idea how. Stress had her massaging her aching shoulders.
Dakota and Warren came walking down the hallway. Though Dakota carried himself with an over-abundance of confidence, and looked like he didn’t have a care in the world, agitation shadowed his eyes.
She was frustrated as hell over the slow progress she was making on their case. If she could ID the boat owners or find the couple Matt had left the banquet with, the police would be questioning them.
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“They’re going to show you the same videos you showed me,” he murmured.
She slid her gaze to Warren. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Despite his warm smile, her stomach was a bundle of nerves.
“Come on back, Ms. Reynolds,” Detective Beeker said.
