A squad car was on the way there to take him to the local sheriff’s station, but with Bridget Newhouse still nowhere to be found, Jessie and Ryan had agreed that time was of the essence and they should try to get as much out of Austen as they could now.
He hadn’t asked for a lawyer after Ryan read him his rights but he had gone silent. As Ryan question him, he just sat in his chair sullenly, all the color drained from his face. He wouldn’t even say whether his panicked run for the cliff was an attempt to escape or kill himself. After several minutes of non-responsiveness, Ryan looked over at Jessie, frustrated.
She knew what he was thinking. Every second was precious now. Chief Laird had called twice more in the last few minutes. Captain Decker must have gotten a tongue lashing from his boss because he was calling both of them now too. Jessie had sent him a brief text saying they were doing an interrogation and would call with details after. Then she put both her phone and Ryan’s on silent.
She looked back at Ryan and pointed to herself. He nodded, indicating he was cool with her trying a different tack. If pummeling the guy with questions wasn’t working, maybe a softer touch would have more success. She sat down opposite Austen and smiled.
“Jude, I get it if you’re afraid to talk,” she said softly, “so let me tell you what I think happened and you let me know how close I am. You met Bridget when she and her husband visited a year and a half ago. The two of you made a connection during your lesson together. One thing led to another and she ended up coming out here regularly, using your yoga classes as a cover for…more personal body contortions. How am I doing so far?”
Austen stared straight ahead at the wall, but his previously slack jaw has started to clench.
“Anyway,” she continued, “when she came out this time as part of a couple, you didn’t like it. It was one thing to know she was married but to see her walking around with her husband was something else. It wasn’t just an abstraction anymore. You couldn’t take it so you snuck into the steam room at the spa and choked him with the ribbon you tie your hair with.”
Austen glanced over at that comment and looked like he was about to say something before stopping himself. Jessie wasn’t sure what to make of that, but when it was clear he wasn’t going to speak, she went on.
“But then you realized the mess you made and how all it would take was one word from Bridget Newhouse about your affair to make you suspect number one. So you had to take her out too, but because she was always with her friends or in her casita, with security outside, you never got a chance until this morning. That’s when you went over. She would have let you in. You’re no stranger. And then you did whatever you did.”
“That’s not true,” he said suddenly, still looking straight ahead.
Jessie waited for him to expound on that but he didn’t, so she kept going.
“Okay, so what do I have wrong?” she asked. “Maybe you were in this together. Maybe you planned out his death so that you could be together and she’d get all his money. But something went wrong. Did she back out at the last second out of guilt? Did you go ahead with it anyway, thinking she’d go along once it was over? And then start to worry that she’d confess everything and you’d be screwed?”
She let him sit with all that for a bit. It was clear from the way his eyes were bouncing around that something was eating at him. Maybe she was on the verge of getting a confession. Finally he looked over at her.
“You’re wrong,” he said flatly. “I didn’t kill him and I didn’t kill her. And I’d like a lawyer now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Jessie sat in Hugo’s office, listening quietly as Ryan spoke on speakerphone to Chief Laird and Captain Decker, explaining everything they’d learned. Jude Austen was in the Peninsula security office interview room, waiting for his lawyer to arrive. They could have had a squad car take him to the station, but Jessie was still holding out hope that the guy might have a spasm of conscience and reveal everything so they’d kept him here at the resort for now.
Through the window she could see Hugo, who had graciously offered his office and stepped out so they could have privacy, talking to Kat, filling her in on all he knew. Her friend was holding her travel bag. She’d likely intended to just stop by to say goodbye and walked into this whirlwind.
“Yes, sir,” Ryan said the chief, “I think a 4 p.m. press conference is okay. But please hold off until then. That way we still have a few hours. Maybe Austen will crack before then. Maybe his lawyer will convince him he’ll get a lighter sentence if he tells us where Bridget Newhouse is.”
“Also,” Jessie added. “That will allow Bridget’s sister to arrive in town. If this woman has been killed, there will be a media feeding frenzy. The family is going to be overwhelmed. The more people those kids have to support them when they learn that they lost both their parents, the less horrific it will be for them, at least I hope.”
“That’s fine. I want to be sensitive to the family, of course,” Laird said before his voice took on a much sharper tone. “But once this is all done, the two of you are going to come by my office with your captain. We need to have a conversation about communication, chain of command, and the consequences for ignoring them. Understood?”
“Yes, Chief,” they said in unison.
“Good, in the meantime, there’s still a problem.”
“What’s that, Chief?” Ryan asked, even though they were both wary of the response.
“When I talk to the press, they’re going to want some things we don’t have. First, they’re going to ask where Bridget Newhouse is. I need to have an answer to that question. That means you two need to get it for me by 4 p.m. And I want that confession from Austen.”
“But we have him dead to rights,” Ryan protested.
“That’s all well and good, Hernandez,” Laird shot back irritably. “And in a court of law, you’re probably right that we’re in good shape. The man had motive. He had opportunity. He had easy access to the scene of the crime. And one of his frickin’ hair ribbons was the murder weapon. This should be a slam dunk if it goes to trial. But in the court of public opinion, it’s not. And as long as we can’t locate Bridget, that’s all those media jackals are going to care about, which is why I need to get to work on my press conference statement now. I expect good news soon.”
As usual, he hung up without another word, leaving the two of them on with Captain Decker.
“Captain,” Jessie pleaded, “can’t you talk some sense into him? This investigation can’t run according to the chief’s media schedule.”
“Maybe it shouldn’t,” Decker said with less sympathy than she would have hoped for, “But it does. And that impacts HSS’s resources going forward. So rather than complain about it, I need you to get this done. Get a confession from Austen if you can. But whatever you do, find Bridget Newhouse, not just for her sake but for ours as well. Please keep me updated.”
Then he hung up as well. Jessie and Ryan sat quietly for a moment. Once again, like earlier, Jessie noticed that Ryan seemed to be on the verge of saying something that was clearly not case-related. She was about to ask him what it was when something she said in passing earlier popped into her head, only this time more fully formed.