“He didn’t suffer,” Adam told her. “From three stories up, he was dead as soon as he landed.”

“Bet he had a bad few seconds on the way down,” she muttered.

“Yes.”

“How did he get up there?”

Adam had already assessed the scene. “Grappling hook and climbing rope.” He left her to speak with Señor Alfonso and Ludwig.

Elle gathered her courage and glanced at the back wall of the restaurant. There the rope dangled, and at the back door stood the huddle of Hollywood. The triangle formed by Gregoire, Sarcha and Faith protected Clarice, and they rubbed her shoulders and spoke in comforting tones. Elle hurried toward them, but when Clarice caught sight of her, she turned her head away.

Elle stopped, hurt by the rejection.

Gregoire and Sarcha stepped forward, shielding Clarice from Elle’s gaze, and Faith held her hand up in a stop gesture. “Miss Burbage will see no one.”

“I’m not a reporter. I’m a friend.” Softly Elle called, “Clarice...”

Faith repeated, “She says she’ll see no one.”

From beside Elle, Adam said, “She’ll see me. The sheriff is on his way, and he’s asked me to take Clarice Burbage’s initial statement.”

Elle was astonished to hear Adam’s lie. Yes, she knew people called him in an emergency while waiting for law enforcement, but she knew he hadn’t spoken to the sheriff. She looked around, trying to see what he saw. What had he observed that made him think all was not as it had been reported?

Faith didn’t take her gaze off Adam. “Gregoire! Come here. Listen to this.”

Gregoire strode over. “I’m not merely Clarice’s voice coach, I’m a lawyer, and I’m in place to protect her in case something happens.” He gestured at the broken body sprawled on the truck. “What is it you want to know?”

Elle could see Adam gearing up for a fight. He wanted to hear Clarice’s statement before law enforcement got into their investigations and the lawyers got into their repudiations. She peered around Faith, Gregoire and Adam and caught sight of Clarice poised to make a run around Sarcha, who was wildly ogling the horrific scene, and toward Señor Alfonso.

Elle met Clarice’s gaze, and together they silently made a decision. Elle headed toward a carefully cultured clump of manzanita beneath the wide live oak that gave the restaurant its name, and Clarice slipped from behind Sarcha and, hugging the wall of the restaurant, met her there.

“What happened?” Elle asked.

Clarice grasped Elle’s arm and pulled her down into a crouch behind the bush. “That stupid man. Stupid, stupid man.” Clarice glanced over her shoulder. “But I didn’t do it! I didn’t kill him. I tried to save him. Check under the truck.”