He wasn’t going to look at the last two years as wasted time. It had been necessary time. No one could tell him how to grieve—and now he realized that was what he’d been doing. He could tell himself he’d been angry, but that was his pure stubbornness. He’d grieved the loss of something important, and now he was ready to begin something even more important. Now he was ready to reclaim parts of himself he’d thought lost forever. The parts that could love, the patient part of himself, the one who could be a husband and a friend.
Behind him he heard a door open and slam shut. He glanced back. Sylvan Dean walked down the hall, a grim look on his face. He stopped when he saw Michael, and his expression went blank.
It was definitely time to reclaim the part of himself that could feel compassion. Lucy thought a lot of this young man. “Hey, you doing okay?”
The younger man blinked. “Is that a real question or part of the interrogation, Marshal?”
That kid had obviously had a rough night. “I’m not working, Van. I’m really asking. Are you okay?”
Van’s gaze softened. “I don’t know, man. All I can think about is the fact that I poured that damn drink. I should have…I don’t know. Shouldn’t I have known? Doesn’t that poison have a strong smell?”
“Yes, but there’s also a portion of people who can’t smell it at all. It’s a genetic thing.” He’d done some research before going to sleep. It had made him feel like he was helping Lucy. “Also, you were surrounded by booze last night. I’m going to assume you don’t smell every drink you pour.”
“No. Of course not. I know it wasn’t my fault, but it’s hard to not think about the fact that I had a hand in that guy’s death.” His shoulders squared. “The same way Lucy did, which is to say, neither one of us killed him. She wouldn’t do that.”
Did everyone know what an ass he’d made of himself? “I know that. Look, I know we’re supposed to evaluate all the evidence and take time to really build a case, but I’m not technically working on this sucker, so I can tell you the truth. It’s one of his siblings, most likely. No one poisons a dude for throwing a punch or making an unwanted move. This was planned, and I suspect whoever did it waited patiently until they could make their move. The killer likely wanted multiple suspects, and he or she found that here. I know you have to answer some questions, but you should understand that Nate is a pro. He’s not going to be fooled.”
Van let out a long breath and seemed to relax a bit. “Okay. I’ll be patient then. I’ll be honest. I was thinking about calling my brother. He’s kind of a big deal in the investigative world. He’s a missing persons specialist now, but he used to do PI and security work. I didn’t want to because he already thinks I’m a fuck-up. I didn’t want to add potential murderer to the list of ways his baby bro is a dumbass. Not that he would really think I was a killer. I’m afraid my brother wouldn’t think I could be organized enough to kill someone.”
It sounded like those brothers needed some bonding time. “Well, you should know I don’t suspect you. I had a bad reaction to Lucy being involved at all. I’m seeing things much more clearly today. I’ve got some questions I want to ask, and the first one is about how the father’s will is structured and who benefits from Brock dying.”
“Anyone who ever had to serve him.” Van grimaced. “See, that’s where my brother would smack the back of my head and call me a dumbass because I said that out loud.”
“I was thinking more in a financial sense. Like I said, if this had been about anger, I would bet on a different method of murder.” This hadn’t been a crime of passion. This was a cold, calculated kill. It likely hadn’t hurt that the out of towners would view Bliss as some sleepy place where the local law enforcement wouldn’t have much pull with the state investigators. A person with wealth and privilege often thought those things would protect them from the responsibility of their actions. He’d met plenty of people who believed they were far smarter than they actually were. “I know it’s stressful, but I truly believe this is going to be okay. Give us a little time and be careful around the Fosters. Are you working today?”
“No, it’s my day off. I’m planning on going back upstairs and hiding for the rest of the day,” Van admitted. “I only came down to sign off on some paperwork. I actually saw one of the fuckers coming down the hall and ducked into the break room.”