The first thing she noticed when she got to the front door was that there was no Geordy, Lewis, or Spike. In fact, there was no security guard at all. She didn’t think that Hugo would have ended the guard watch without informing her or Ryan.
She knocked on the door. When she didn’t get any response to that or her repeated louder, attempts, she tried the door. It was locked. She walked around the exterior of the house until she saw that the sliding door on the enclosed patio was open slightly.
Jessie stood there for a moment, debating how to proceed. Bridget might just be asleep upstairs in her bedroom. She could be listening to music on her ear buds like the first time they came here. Climbing over the patio walls and entering unannounced, as she was considering doing, seemed like a precipitous move. She could just call Hugo and ask him to have the front door unlocked.
But that would take time. What if something had gone terribly wrong? What if Bridget was having an affair and her lover, possibly someone who worked at the resort, had gotten envious at seeing her with her husband? What if that person had killed Scott in a fit of jealous rage? What if that killer had come back to shut up the one person who could prove a connection to Scott: Bridget? What if the killer had taken out her security guard and right now, the woman was lying injured or dead inside the casita?
Jessie determined that it was worth the risk. After a quick glance around to see if anyone was watching, she hoisted herself up and over the wall.
Her gun was out of its holster before she opened the sliding glass door. Once she stepped inside, she stood there quietly for a moment, listening for the sound of voices, music, any sign of life inside.
The casita was quiet. She searched the first floor, found nothing, and moved up to the second. There was no one there either. She was about to leave the primary bedroom when she caught sight of something half-hidden under the sheets on the bed. Jessie lifted up the sheet to discover Bridget’s phone.
Her phone was here but she wasn’t. Something felt very wrong.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Ryan wasn’t answering his phone.
Every time Jessie called, it went straight to voicemail.
She decided to try Hugo, who might be with him in the security office. Just as she was about to hit “send,” her phone rang. It was the number for police headquarters. She checked the time. It was 12:04 p.m.—lunchtime. She had a sneaking suspicion it was Chief Laird and sent the call straight to voicemail. There was no way she was opening that can of worms right now. She called Hugo.
“Is Detective Hernandez with you?” she asked the second he answered. “I can’t get hold of him.”
“No,” he told her. “He hit a wall looking at all those financial documents and took a walk. I think he said he was going to the cliffs to clear out the cobwebs. Reception is pretty bad out there. That’s probably why you can’t get him. Is something wrong?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “Why did you pull the security guard off the Newhouse casita?”
“I meant to tell you about that,” Hugo said apologetically. “I got calls a short while ago from every member of that group, including Mrs. Newhouse, all complaining that they felt like prisoners and threatening to take legal action against the resort. Since the guards were mostly there to keep them safe from potential threats and they were requesting the removal, I didn’t think I had much choice.”
“Well, Hugo, that really sucks,” Jessie said, frustrated, “Because Bridget Newhouse isn’t in her casita and her phone is. I don’t want to jump to conclusions here. But since the place wasn’t being watched, I have no idea if she went for a stroll or was abducted by the person who killed her husband.”
“So you’re sure he was murdered?” he asked, dismayed. Apparently he’d been hoping for suicide.
“We have to operate as if he was.”
“Oh my God,” he said. “I’ll have my people scour the area looking for her.”
“Fine,” she said. “I’m coming back to the Grand Hall. I’ll meet you at the front desk.”
*
Ryan still wasn’t reachable.
Jessie tried not to think about that as she talked on the phone with Jamil and Beth. It helped that Hugo had a guard take a golf cart to the cliffs to see if he was there. With that out of her control, she returned her attention to the task at hand.
“So your theory,” Beth said, making sure she understood what Jessie had just explained, “is that Bridget Newhouse was going to Peninsula to have an ongoing affair out of sight of her husband, likely with someone who worked there, possibly a staffer she got regular services from so she could use that to hide what was happening. Is that right?”
“That’s exactly it,” Jessie confirmed. “And I’m worried that if the staffer saw Bridget here with her husband and killed him in some kind of crime of passion, that person might have realized that she would eventually reveal the affair and provide a new suspect for us.”
“Okay,” Jamil said, “Based on the pages you sent us with all Bridget Newhouse’s services over the last year and a half, there are only two that she got from the same people on every visit. Both are male. One was a masseur named Cal King. The other is a yoga instructor named Jude Austen.”
“I met Austen yesterday,” Jessie said. “But I haven’t talked to Cal King yet. Maybe I should start with him.”
“I don’t think he’s your guy,” Hugo said, almost apologetically.
“Why not?” she demanded.
“For one thing, there’s no way he’s having an affair with Bridget Newhouse,” he said. “Cal is gay.”
“Are you sure?” Jessie pressed.
“Pretty damn sure,” Hugo assured her. “He’s actually engaged to Spike, that huge guard who accompanied us to Ronnie Nance’s quarters yesterday. Also, Cal is off today. He’s not even on campus to abduct or harm anyone.”
“Okay,” Jessie said, deflated. “What about Jude Austen?”
“I don’t know about being a killer, but I’m pretty sure he’s straight,” Hugo told her.
“Where is he now?”
Hugo hit a few key keystrokes.
“He’s supposed to be at the yoga pavilion,” he said. “He should be in the middle of a lesson. Should we go check?”
“Yes, please,” she said before addressing Jamil and Beth. “I’m hanging up now guys, but please call if you have any updates.”
They headed out to the back of the Grand Hall building where Geordy the security guard was just pulling up in a cart with Ryan seated beside him.
“Sorry,” he said, hopping out. “I was just at the cliffs clearing my head. I forgot that cell reception is bad there. What’s going on?”
“You may as well get back in,” Jessie told him. “We’re hitching another ride with these guys. A lot has happened in the last half hour.”
They got in the backseat and Hugo hopped in the front with Geordy.
“Take us to the yoga pavilion,” he instructed.
Jessie was about to fill Ryan in when his phone rang. He pulled it out. It was Laird.