“Lana, you’re coming with us,” Abby said, pulling out her handcuffs.
“What?” Lana cried, backing off. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Yes, you did,” Abby sighed, jangling the cuffs in her hands.
“Cherry says she left the room at 12.15pm to see her other guests safely into taxis,” she said. “That story checks out. It’s been pouring with rain since 11pm and I can see that her dress is wet. It’s gone see through.”
Scotty blushed again.
“Maggie says she went to the dance floor to collect phone numbers as part of a dare,” Abby said. “She indeed did collect three business cards – and they were tucked into her bra. She has no bag or clutch and in that tiny little dress she couldn’t have kept those business cards in there all night without anyone else seeing them.”
Lana’s eyes were wide. “But you didn’t leave the room, did you?” Abby said. “I reckon you hung back to flirt with the butler.”
“I didn’t,” Lana protested weakly.
“Well, you were the one to run on to the dance floor after Cherry,” Abby continued. “She’d already spent some time outside helping the others into cabs. So you didn’t come straight down, like you said.
“Maybe he rejected your advances,” Abby said. “Whatever happened, he angered you. You picked up the empty champagne bottle and smashed it over his head. Then you ran for the dance floor, arriving there before the manager had time to investigate the sound of smashing glass.”
Lana’s eyes flashed with anger. “Well, I offered it to him on a plate and he started talking about his bloody girlfriend,” she fumed. “Who on earth would reject me?”
“Someone with stronger morals than you, it seems,” Scotty countered.
Then, Lana broke down in sobs.
“I didn’t mean to kill him,” she choked, holding her wrists together.
“Doesn’t matter,” Abby said, snapping the cuffs on. “You did.”