Chapter 16 Saturday, 13 June 2026
Ten minutes following their return from the Cabot Room, Hannah hovered at the bar, waiting for a seat to open up.
Another drink would be a mistake, but she could use a cold glass of water.
In a club chair near the fireplace, Theo was doing his best to comfort a sobbing Alice St Clair.
On the mantel above the fireplace, the cheery burst of summer greenery looked out of place.
Theo exchanged a quick, miserable glance with Hannah, then gave Alice’s back another stiff pat.
Hannah stifled a giggle. It wasn’t funny, not really.
Madison was dead, and emotions were running high, especially as the night got longer and exhaustion settled across the club.
But if Madison had graced Alice with so much as a like on Instagram since their graduation nearly ten years ago, Hannah would be shocked.
Her crying jags – this was the third Hannah recalled witnessing so far tonight – seemed a bit over the top.
Then again, people handled grief in all sorts of different ways.
Maybe she was being uncharitable. Or maybe Alice was performing for the benefit of her fellow guests…
Before Hannah could explore that line of thinking any further, Edward strode purposefully across the lounge, headed directly for Theo.
With a withering look at the still-sobbing Alice, he clasped Theo’s shoulder and motioned to the stairs.
It must be Theo’s turn to speak to the detectives. Hannah’s stomach clenched.
Shit.
Without a doubt, she’d had fun with Theo tonight.
But she’d lost valuable time she should have spent investigating, and sleeping with him had been, quite possibly, a fatal error.
Her gaze strayed to his back, retreating up the stairwell.
She’d learned nothing more about Elle, and if Theo told the detectives that she’d had a crush on him in senior year, it would only bolster their case against her.
The outsider looking in, wanting Madison’s friendship and Elle’s boyfriend, but getting neither.
Sleeping with him would look equally desperate, if spun the wrong way.
Hannah Miller at twenty-seven, still trying to fit in where she doesn’t belong.
Still trying to win the boy. Still nursing her high school wounds.
And, if taken to its logical conclusion, acting out her darkest revenge fantasy against the woman who once made her life miserable.
Feeling slightly ill, Hannah turned to see Elle and Beatrice walking through the library doors, into the lounge.
She straightened. Elle wasn’t alone, but this might be her best chance.
She took two steps in their direction. Then, in a stroke of luck, Beatrice gestured to the dining room and Elle shook her head.
Beatrice made her way towards the arch, leaving Elle alone. Finally. Hannah picked up her pace.
‘No.’ Elle held up her hand when Hannah was about three feet away, stopping her in her tracks.
‘Excuse me?’
‘Whatever you have to say, I’m not interested. Just no.’
‘Elle. I’m sorry about Madison. I had nothing—’
Elle crossed her arms and sneered. ‘Spare me your condolences. Your article cost me two clients, I owe you absolutely nothing. And unless you want me to get Officer O’Doyle over here’ – she nodded to the uniform stationed at the base of the stairwell – ‘you will leave me alone.’
With that, Elle spun on her heel and followed Beatrice into the dining room.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
This was precisely why she’d planned to stay home tonight. But that was a different road, one she’d sadly not taken. Her article was costing her valuable intel, and it was already after one in the morning. She needed another angle, another in.
When she returned to the bar, a seat had opened up, and gratefully, Hannah took a place on the high-backed stool.
Almost instantly, the seats on either side of her emptied out.
Subtle. Once again, she was struck by the desire to hiss and spit at her fellow alumni, but she clamped her mouth shut.
Instead, she signalled the bartender, and soon a tall glass of sparkling water appeared in front of her.
No more martinis tonight. When she took a large gulp, the bubbles burned her throat.
‘Hey.’
Her head snapped up. Oliver was beside her, pulling out the empty barstool to her right and sliding onto its green leather seat.
‘Hey,’ she murmured.
He adjusted his orange Tom Fords against the bridge of his nose. She wondered if his lenses were still clear glass. ‘How’s it going?’ he asked.
She gave him a noncommittal shrug and took another sip of San Pellegrino.
Oliver frowned. ‘I promised my support, and I know I haven’t been much help yet. In my defence, the detectives kept me in there for ever, and then you disappeared.’
Without a word, the bartender placed two crystal bowls before them, mixed nuts and truffle popcorn. Oliver popped a roasted pecan in his mouth.
For a moment, Hannah considered opening up about exactly where she’d been. She wanted to tell someone about sleeping with Theo, but a not so quiet voice at the back of her head said to keep her mouth shut, even to someone she trusted, like Oliver.
‘No worries,’ she said quickly, dismissing his concern. Then she dropped her voice. ‘Did they ask about me? The detectives?’
Oliver nodded. ‘’Fraid so. They wanted to know about your relationship to Madison, but don’t worry. I didn’t give them anything.’
So the detectives were asking around about her. Expected, but not great. All the more reason to clear her head and get back down to business. She gave his hand a small squeeze. ‘I’ve been exploring some leads. Have you kept in touch with Gemma since graduation?’
Gemma had been more forthcoming than Hannah had expected, but she still had the nagging sense that she’d been lying. Maybe Oliver’s response would be telling.
He shook his head. ‘Not really. After she moved to sunny Cali, we basically lost touch. She’ll comment on my posts here and there, I’ll throw her a like, but that’s about it. When she joined me at the bar earlier, that was the first time we’d spoken in years.’
Hannah crunched down on a bite of popcorn. That lined up with what Gemma had told her. Maybe she’d been wrong to focus so much of her attention on Gemma Phipps. Maybe she really had come tonight out of sheer curiosity…
‘So you like Gemma for Madison’s murder?’ Oliver whispered.
Hannah sighed. ‘Maybe. Or Elle, but she won’t give me the time of day.’
‘What about Bash, or Theo?’
She swallowed. ‘I haven’t spoken to Bash yet either, at least since the start of the night. He claimed to have “reformed” since our Prescott days, but I’m sure that’s bullshit. Theo…’
‘You were eating dinner together, when I got out of the interview room.’
She took a sip of water. She’d have to give Oliver something, or he’d start to connect the dots, and divulging anything about what had really gone down between the two of them tonight felt far too risky.
‘He said something about not being as nice as I’d always remembered. Any idea what that was about?’
Oliver caught the bartender’s eye and ordered an Empire Mule.
‘Senior year, he got pretty steamed at Madison when she accused him of driving the knife deeper into Elle’s heart over winter break. Remember?’
Her eyes fluttered closed. She could picture the Prescott entry hall, its gleaming herringbone floors, and Madison striding through the doors in her fox fur coat. She’d thrown a series of barbs at Theo until he’d snapped.
‘I remember,’ she said finally. ‘His temper flared a couple of times that year, always at Madison, always because she’d go for the jugular.’
Oliver took a slug of his drink. ‘Maybe that’s what he meant.’ He scooted his barstool even closer. ‘You know they just had a falling out, right?’
She raised her glass to her lips, trying to keep her hands from shaking. ‘What falling out?’
Oliver’s eyes sparkled. ‘You really don’t follow anyone from Prescott on socials, do you?’
‘I follow your YouTube account.’ She gave him a smile. ‘But no, generally not. Honestly, I had my fill of online gossip in high school.’
Oliver laughed. ‘Fair, but you’re missing out on all the fun. Our former classmates stay being messy AF.’
Hannah laughed in spite of herself. ‘So what went down between Madison and Theo?’
Oliver cracked his knuckles and settled back on his stool. ‘In a nutshell, Madison had a long-standing brand partnership with Concord Hospitality on Insta.’
Hannah nodded. Following his graduation from Princeton, Theo had joined his parents in running the Fitzgerald family’s elite restaurant group. This much she knew.
‘Theo’s become quite the philanthropist in recent years,’ Oliver continued. ‘He’s forever posting about the latest organisation he’s supporting, always something about ending world hunger, blah blah.’
‘Oliver!’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Whatever. It’s an important cause, I get that. He’s just so sanctimonious about it. Like, does he really care?’
She shrugged. ‘Maybe he does. Anyway, what does this have to do with Madison’s brand partnership with the Fitzgerald family business?’
‘I’m getting to that. Earlier this year, Theo announced he was starting his own foundation, a charitable arm of Concord. Rich kids ending hunger in urban areas or something.’ He flapped his hand. ‘I’m sure it’ll be great.’
‘And Madison’s partnership with Concord Hospitality was meant to bring publicity to Theo’s fledgling foundation?’
‘Big time. Except three weeks ago, the day after her hubby’s news dropped, she announced that the Sinclair Group, a longtime competitor of Concord Hospitality, would be catering all of Winslow’s mayoral campaign events.’
Hannah mulled over his words. ‘So Madison ditched Concord for the Sinclair Group?’