I stop pacing behind Ben at the computer and cross to the chaos. Reama’s headshot is up by my pillow, next to an index card that says obsessive fan? and secret meeting with Suzanne? But he’s right. I have no clue how she or my grandmother’s assistant fit into Natalie’s murder. I traced Reama back inside the hotel on the clips. She disappeared off feed for less than ten minutes, presumably to do something with the file Suzanne gave her, and then returned to the ballroom at eight-fifty. She doesn’t leave again, and had no time to get to the school and back. She didn’t kill Natalie. Seemingly, it’s a dead end.

But what I saw on that video was weird. And while Reama might have an alibi, Suzanne doesn’t. If she was speeding off in her Subaru at eight-thirty, she could have just as easily driven home as to the school right in time to kill Natalie. Why, though? It’s a paper-thin theory.

Luke, on the other hand…I unstick the Post-it where I did my best to re-create the text chain I saw, walk it over to Ben. “He texted that right before she died.”

“ ‘I’ll fucking kill you,’ ” he reads out in a low murmur. “And he hasn’t given the cops his alibi yet?”

“Nope. I’m kind of floored they let him fuck around all day yesterday, and didn’t make him submit to questioning.”

“Luke’s my friend, but he’s also a Rinaldi. It’s the same reason they haven’t talked to the mayor. Golden families with a lot of political power can sway a recall or reelection campaign in a way the sheriff wouldn’t want. They’re handling them with kid gloves.” Ben gets up from my computer chair, returns the Luke Post-it to the cluster at the foot of the bed and eyes the writing next to the mayor’s photo. Overheard screaming at victim before game.

“Do you think Amber will feed you updates from her dad? This is a lot of ground to cover. It would help if we knew what to prioritize, and, well, we’re hardly going to be able to interrogate the mayor.” I don’t miss the way Ben’s expression goes hard as he eyes the mayor’s smug grin in his official headshot.

“I don’t know about Amber. Her dad laid into us pretty hard about the dress. I think I have to be careful playing detective in front of her. I don’t want to put her in a precarious position. She was too high last night to notice me snooping in Luke’s phone, but I think Bronte saw me.”

A wounded expression flickers over Ben’s features.