“Okay, sorry,” Ryan said. “That sounds great.”
“Hey guys,” Jessie said, jumping in to give Ryan a moment to regroup, “Let’s expedite this by skipping his time at the table and whenever he was with his wife. If we take her word for now, nothing odd happened when she was with him, so let’s focus on when he wasn’t. If that’s a bust, we can always go back and expand the search parameters.”
There was no answer.
“Jamil?” Jessie said.
“He’s just rendering that now,” Beth answered. “It’ll be ready in a minute.”
As usual, Jamil beat expectations. Fifty-one seconds later, the revised footage appeared in their inbox. They scrolled though the video, looking for anything out of the ordinary. But there were no fights, no fingers pointed in anyone’s chest, no sign of any conflict to speak of. Jessie felt any optimism leaking out of her like a deflated balloon. She was about to glance over at Ryan to see if he was feeling the same when she saw it.
“Hold on,” she said, “Jamil, can you back the footage up about thirty seconds and play it at regular speed?”
The researcher did and they all watched the screen. Jessie squeezed her fists in anticipation, waiting to see if she’d really seen what she thought she had. On the screen were Scott and Bridget Newhouse, along with Abby Andrews. The big band was done for the night and they were all dancing to techno music in a tight circle. The other three people in the group—Malcolm Andrews and Matt and Ellie Darcy, were taking a break at the table.
After a moment, Bridget tapped Scott on the shoulder and yelled something in his ear. He nodded and continued dancing with Abby as his wife returned to the table and plopped down.
“What are we looking for?” Kat asked.
“Here,” Jessie answered, pointing at the two remaining dancers. “Would anyone else consider that ‘unusual?’”
They all stared at the screen, some with open mouths. After several seconds of ordinary dancing, Scott moved behind Abby and seemed to get quite close. What looked pretty innocuous at double speed now appeared much more like a scene out of Dirty Dancing. Scott had his hands on Abby’s hips and looked to be grinding into her. She didn’t look put out. In fact, she seemed to be leaning back into him, with a big grin on her face, her red hair flying everywhere, and her arms in the air, happily matching the beat. They only stopped after Malcolm joined them about a minute later.
“That was extremely friendly,” Hugo said, expressing their collective opinion.
Jessie turned to Ryan.
“What do you say we go have a chat with Abby Andrews?”
*
Jessie only unclenched her teeth once she was out of the golf cart.
With time running short before Chief Laird’s deadline, Hugo had offered to drive them to the Andrews’ casita. But he’d taken the deadline a little too seriously and nearly tipped over on several sharp turns.
“I’ll wait out here,” he said, once they pulled up.
“Thanks,” Ryan said, as if they’d have even considered letting him join them for this.
When he knocked on the door, Abby opened it within seconds. Jessie noticed that she was as effervescent as ever, with a wide, vibrant smile that matched her yellow skirt and floral halter top.
“Hey guys,” she said, welcoming them in. “How are you? Are you feeling okay after last night, Detective Hernandez? Matt’s a pretty big guy. I’d be sore for weeks after something like that, not that I could have ever done what you did.”
“I’ll be okay, thanks,” he told her before cutting to the chase. “Ms. Hunt and I actually have a few questions for you.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, surprised at his abruptness. “I’ll get Malcolm. He’s up working in the bedroom.”
“We were hoping to talk to you privately, Abby,” Jessie said, hoping that going with first names might make her more receptive to what was to come.
Abby looked perplexed but didn’t object.
“Okay, where do you want to talk?”
“How about the back porch?” Jessie suggested, thinking a more relaxed setting would keep things light until they weren’t.
“Sure. You guys want anything to drink?”
They declined so Abby led the way to the back. As they passed through the kitchen, Jessie noted that there were two small suitcases resting near the door. Though she didn’t comment on it, the sight was unsettling. Clearly the Andrews assumed they were leaving today. She had to imagine the Darcys felt the same way. Unless she and Ryan could find a way to justify preventing their departures, their only credible suspects would all leave the resort, making continued questioning without lawyers all but impossible.
She realized that she was going to have to push harder than she preferred. Once outside, they all sat on patio chairs around a table shaded with an umbrella. When they were settled in, Jessie took the lead.
“So how long have you and Malcolm been married now?” she asked.
“Four years in May,” Abby said, beaming.
“You know,” Jessie said quietly, conspiratorially, “a lot of people say that the infamous seven year itch everyone talks about is really more of a four year itch. What do you think of that?”
Abby looked at her in confusion.
“What do you mean, itch?”
Even though they were roughly the same age, Jessie suddenly felt old. Had this girl never seen a Marilyn Monroe movie?
“The seven year itch is a term for when a married person begins to feel restless and starts looking at other people,” she explained.
Abby looked confused and then, annoyed.
“I’ve never heard of that,” she said. “But I can promise you that neither Malcolm nor I have any itches, except for each other.”
“Of course,” Jessie said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “It’s just that we’ve been following up on some loose ends and we came across this. Can you explain it?”
She pulled out her phone and played the snippet of video that had piqued everyone’s interest earlier. Once it was done, Abby looked up at her questioningly, as if she didn’t understand the problem.
“I don’t get it,” she said.
“Well, Abby,” Ryan said quietly, “that’s not typically the kind of dancing one sees between two folks who are married to other people.”
Only then did Abby’s confusion fade. But instead of looking angry, she giggled. Jessie couldn’t hide her surprise at the reaction.
“I’m sorry,” the woman said. “I don’t mean to sound thoughtless but what you’re suggesting is ridiculous.”
“Really?” Ryan wondered. “Do you think your husband would feel the same way?”
“Actually, yes,” Abby said, standing up, opening the patio door, and calling out before they could stop her. “Malcolm, can you come out to the patio for a minute? I need you.”
He was down a few moments later and took a seat next to his wife. He looked guardedly puzzled.
“Show him the video,” Abby said.
“Are you sure?” Jessie asked.
She nodded so Jessie held out her phone for Malcolm to see, watching his expression closely the whole time. To her astonishment, he broke into a grin, one of the only times she’d seen him do it since they met. When it was over, he looked over at his wife.