"From the very beginning, all of you have taken the Finch family's word as gospel." I spoke slowly, letting every syllable land. "Has anyone stopped to consider whether their story even makes sense?"
I turned to Andrew. "You just told the officers that only my fingerprints were in the kitchen, correct? And your mother swore that no one set foot in there after I left?"
Andrew's brow furrowed. A flicker of unease crossed his face.
"Obviously! We can all vouch for each other. We were sitting right here in the courtyard the whole time, talking. Why would anyone go into the kitchen?"
He clung to that story like a lifeline.
I stared at him, unblinking. "Then this should be very simple."
I turned to Captain Chavez. "Since he's so certain no one else went in, I'd ask that you seal the kitchen immediately and collect fingerprint and footprint samples right now."
The moment those words left my mouth, Andrew's composure shattered.
Just as I'd suspected.
If I hadn't cooked, and people were still dead, then someone else had gone into that kitchen after me.
I wanted to see just how airtight their little setup really was.
"No!"
Andrew threw his arms wide, blocking my path.