Chapter 4 - The Bartender's Hands
Leo asked to speak with us the next morning. He came through the side entrance without his bow tie, sleeves pulled over his knuckles. He looked exhausted.
"Vanessa paid me nine hundred dollars in cash," he admitted. "I thought I was just replacing cider with champagne. She said it was a family joke, that Michael had agreed."
"You knew he was sober," I said.
"I heard the staff talking. I should have checked. When I tried to back out, she said she'd report me for stealing liquor. I have a kid and rent due."
"Being scared doesn't excuse it," Luca said. "Tell the whole truth."
Leo described the blue-dot glass, the extra flute and the instruction written after the printed banquet plan was approved. Vanessa had insisted on serving Michael herself. Then she asked Leo to keep his mouth shut after the toast, whatever happened.
"Can you put that in writing?" Luca asked.
"If I'm allowed to read it before I sign."
"Of course. And you can have counsel."
Leo took a small envelope from his jacket. It held a cash receipt bearing Vanessa's initials. He had kept it because he feared she would say he stole the money.
"There's more," he said. "Someone sent me a script this morning. Said if reporters called, I should say Emily replaced the drink."
My stomach twisted. "Who sent it?"
"A number I don't know. But the same number sent my shift instructions before the party."
Luca didn't grab the phone. He asked Leo to preserve the messages and share them with his lawyer. There was a quiet decency in that request, different from the way people talked about Luca outside this house.
As Leo left, Vanessa's assistant, Camille, appeared with a garment bag. She looked from Leo to me, then turned to leave.
"Camille," Luca said. "Who handled the guest list changes?"
"Miss Bellini did."
"All of them?"
Camille's mouth tightened. "The names were submitted through your uncle Carlo's office."
Luca took one careful breath. His uncle had helped raise both brothers after their father went to prison.
May you like
"What does Carlo have to do with my engagement party?" he asked.
Camille whispered, "More than you'd like."
