The Perfect Impression by Blake Pierce

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Jandro was already halfway down the first fairway by the time they located him.

Peters started chasing him before Jessie could say anything. Looking around, she saw a golf cart plugged into a charging station and headed for it. She unplugged it, hopped in, and hit the accelerator. Within seconds, she’d overtaken the detective.

“Want a ride?” she asked, pulling up next to him.

Short of breath, he got in without a word. Jessie tried to keep a level head and not jump to conclusions. Just because Alejandro had taken off the minute they saw him didn’t mean he had done anything to Gabby. But it sure was suspicious. It was hard to imagine he wasn’t involved somehow. Jandro was headed toward a patch of trees just beyond a sand trap where the fairway doglegged left. Beyond that, there looked to be a steep drop-off.

“There’s a ravine just past the trees,” Peters said, finally able to speak and apparently reading her mind. “It’s overrun with thick brush. If he gets down there, it’ll be hell to find him.”

“Then let’s not let him get down there,” Jessie said, veering around the bunker to try to intercept the caddy before he reached the trees and they had to follow on foot.

They reached him just as he got to the woods. The trees were still far enough apart that Jessie felt comfortable going in, though she had to slow down.

“Alejandro,” Peters called out. “We only want to ask you some questions. Don’t make me chase you into the bushes. Unless you killed someone last night, you’re better off not running. If you stop now, we can let this go. But if you don’t, I will throw the book at you.”

Jandro didn’t stop but Jessie had no choice. The trees were now too close together to dodge. She was just hitting the brakes when the caddy reached the edge of the ravine. Peters jumped out and started after him. Jandro looked ready to barrel down the hill. But at the last second he seemed to change his mind and stopped short. He froze in place, raised his hands above his head, and slowly turned around.

“Thank god,” Peters wheezed, dropping to a walk. “You made the right call, Jandro.”

“I didn’t kill anyone,” the man insisted in a thick accent.

“No one said you did,” Peters huffed. “But I still need you to walk toward me very slowly.”

Jandro followed the instructions. When he got close enough, Peters cuffed him.

“I didn’t do nothing wrong,” Jandro insisted.

“Then why did you run?” Jessie demanded.

Jandro looked up at her but didn’t answer.

For the first time, she got a good look at him. It was obvious why he might be a popular bedroom companion. Though he was fairly short, the man was broad shouldered and well-muscled. He had lustrous black hair and penetrating brown eyes that she suspected he used to maximum effect.

“Should we take him back to the hotel or to the station?” Peters asked, apparently hoping a change of venue would make the guy chattier.

“Actually, why don’t we chat out here,” Jessie suggested, “away from prying eyes and ears. If Jandro answers our questions directly, maybe we can avoid the whole arrest thing.”

Peters looked like he wanted to take the guy in just for making them chase him, but managed to keep that to himself.

“What do you say, Jandro?” she asked. “If you’re straight with us, and we can verify your story, we forget about this whole ‘evading arrest’ thing. But if you lie, we get formal about things. Are you cool with that?”

Jandro nodded.

“Great,” Jessie said, getting out of the cart and walking over. She wanted to hit him with questions before he had too long to think. “Again, why did you run?”

He shrugged.

“That’s not going to cut it, Jandro,” she scolded before deciding to try a different tack. “Okay, how long were you with Melissa Ferro last night?”

Jandro looked briefly startled before he responded.

“I was not—” he started but she cut him off.

“Remember the deal. You have to be honest. Melissa already told us about your appointment. We’re not looking to arrest you for that. We’re investigating a murder, remember. And when we saw you, you took off. You can see why that doesn’t look good.”

“I did not kill the woman,” he said fiercely.

“Did you know her?” Peters asked.

“I saw her. She is friends with Miss Melissa.”

“Did you ever spend…private time with her?” Jessie asked.

“No,” he answered, shaking his head vehemently. “Miss Melissa would not like that.”

It was pretty clear to Jessie why Jandro had run and it didn’t seem to have anything to do with Gabby’s death. He was afraid of being arrested for sexually servicing guests, a crime she imagined might have long-term consequences for his residency in the country. She looked over at Peters and could tell he had the same suspicion. But believing it and proving it were two different things.

“Jandro,” she said, softening her tone, “we need to know if you were with Miss Melissa last night and if so, for how long. Easy questions, easy answers—make it any harder and your day get much worse real fast.”

Jandro didn’t answer at first. For a second she thought he might back out. But then she realized he was trying to remember.

“I was with her,” he said. “But I am not sure when.”

“You’re going to have to do better than that,” Peters growled.

“I have a calendar in my back pocket,” Jandro said. “The times get confusing so I write everything down. I know I was with her. You can check.”

Jessie moved behind him and saw the flat booklet in his left back pocket.

“You don’t mind if I take it?” she reconfirmed, not wanting to be accused of any improprieties later.

He shook his head. She tugged it out and opened to yesterday. Jandro’s schedule was demanding. He had four appointments listed for the day at 3 p.m., 7 p.m., 10:45 p.m., and midnight.

The very sight of the calendar made Jessie’s heart sink. It made her sick to her stomach that the guy standing in front of them kept a schedule of the women he had to service and when. No matter how good a golf caddy he was, she suspected that if any of those women expressed displeasure, his entire existence could be uprooted in a moment. She forced herself to set that aside for now. She couldn’t right every wrong today. But she could find Gabby Crewe’s killer.

She studied the appointments more closely. There were no names listed but there were room numbers and in one case it simply said “sauna.” The 10:45 appointment had a notation for suite 503, which was the Ferros’.

“You keep busy, Alejandro,” she noted. “This says you had her scheduled for ten forty-five. How long were you there?”

“My visits are an hour or a half hour. I think she was half. If it was, there is a ‘2’ next to the time.”

“There is,” she said.

“I remember now. Most times, she likes an hour but I remember that she wanted shorter this time so she could go back to her friends in the bar.”

Jessie took a photo of the page and shoved it back in his pocket.

“Did Melissa act different than usual?” she asked.

“No. She was the same as always. Melissa is always very aggressive. Every time I am with her, she is so passionate that it feels like she thinks it will be her last chance to make love.”

“Okay,” Peters said, clearly unprepared for that level of forthrightness. “Maybe you don’t have to share every detail, buddy.”

Jessie enjoyed watching him squirm a bit before replying.

“So Melissa Ferro’s alibi holds up,” she finally said. “Based on the timeline, we still can’t definitively eliminate her as a suspect. But this certainly helps her. Now we have to decide who to go at next.”

Peters was about to reply when his phone pinged that he had a text. He read it and looked up at her, frowning.

“What?” she asked.

“That was from Keith Heck. He said some guests are getting chippy again. The word ‘lawyer’ is getting tossed around a lot. We better get back.”

As Jessie returned to the cart, Peters put Jandro in the rear-facing seat. The second he settled into the passenger side, she grinned and floored the accelerator. After all, time was short.

*

Deputy Heck hadn’t been kidding.

Even before Jessie and Peters walked into the bar, where the upset guests were sequestered, they could hear loud, angry voices. Glancing at her watch, she suspected why. It was 9:11 a.m. The people who remained were the ones who hadn’t been cleared to leave on the first ferry of the morning.

All told, there were ten people in the bar. That included the Ferros, the Landers, Steve Crewe, and Theo Aldridge. The other four were two couples whom Peters had interviewed last night and felt comfortable clearing to leave if Jessie agreed. She decided to talk to them first to clear the decks as much as possible. But before she could approach them, Marin Lander marched up to her.

“We’ve had just about enough of this, Ms. Hunt,” she huffed fussily. “I keep waiting for someone to explain why I’m still here and all I get is the runaround. You should know that we’ve asked our attorney to be on standby. He assured us that he’s secured a helicopter and can be here in less than an hour if we say the word. So do we need to do that?”

Jessie wanted to come back at her hard, put her in her place. But this was a delicate situation. If she pushed too hard, Lander likely would call the lawyer back, as would everyone else. They’d all shut down, refusing to talk at all.

There was still crucial information to be gleaned from these people and as long as they thought they were viewed only as friends of the victim, being called on to help get her justice, they might play ball. The second they suspected they were in legal jeopardy, then that would be the end of it. So despite her instinct to push, Jessie smiled as she let a long, silent breath escape her lips.

“Of course not, Mrs. Lander. We’re almost done here,” she said before addressing the entire group. “I understand your frustration at being stuck here while others are leaving. But I would ask for your patience and understanding just a bit longer. Your willingness to have your Sunday slightly inconvenienced could be the difference between us solving this murder or not. I know that getting justice for Gabby is as important to you as it is to us.”

That silenced Lander briefly. Jessie took advantage of the lull to get Deputy Heck’s attention. When he came over, she whispered to him.

“Take the folks who aren’t part of Gabby’s traveling party to the corner of the bar. Make it casual.”

He nodded and did as she asked. When that was done, Jessie addressed those who remained.

“Let me tell you our plan,” she said to them in a hushed tone that suggested she was taking them into her confidence. “Detective Peters and I need to wrap up our interviews with the other four folks over there. Then we plan to speak with all of you once more. You’ve been incredibly helpful in helping us lock down the timeline of Gabby’s movements last night. But we think that in the cold light of day, a few hours removed from the haziness of late-night drinking, you might able to clarify things even further. I’m asking that you give us this small window of additional time to figure things out. I know Steve would appreciate it. He’s lost his wife, the mother of his little boy, Ellis. Let’s not compound his loss by letting her killer escape when you might hold the keys to preventing it.”

As she expected, no one had the gall to raise a fuss after that. They all moved to cocktail tables near the window, where they could see the ocean. Maura the bartender caught her eye and gave a silent golf clap in appreciation of her skills. Apparently her brief employee lounge nap was officially over.

“I’m not sure how long that gives us but we better take advantage of it,” Jessie muttered to Peters. “Let’s knock out these other interviews before someone changes their mind.”