by BIBA PEARCE
She looked confused for a moment.
“We saw video footage of the party,” Kenzie explained more gently. “When you left, you headed down the path to the beach. A bit dangerous that time of night, wasn't it?”
“I needed to clear my head,” she said.
“Is that because you had an altercation with Natalia before you left?”
She sighed. “Okay, fine. You’re right. Natalia was going to terminate my services. But it wasn’t because of the reason you think. She wasn’t happy with the way we were representing her. She felt we could do more for her singing career.” Gabriella spread her hands. “I tried. I really did, but nobody wanted to take her on. Like I said, she wasn’t good enough. Talented Latina singers are a dime a dozen in this city.”
Kenzie frowned. “Then why did she tell her father you were stealing from her?”
“I have no idea. Perhaps she was trying to justify it. Who knows?”
“What did you do after you walked along the beach?” he asked.
“I went back to my car and drove home.”
“Can anyone vouch for you?”
“I don’t think so.” She clicked her fingers. “Actually, yes. I stopped at a gas station on the way.”
Kenzie met his gaze.
“Which one?”
“Bay Point Shell, on Biscayne.”
“Okay, we’ll check it out. Thank you, Ms. Vincent.”
Her guarded expression told him it wasn’t a pleasure.
She got to her feet.
“I still need to see your finance records,” he said.
Her lips pressed together. “I have nothing to hide.”
“Great, I’ll expect them this afternoon.”
They walked into the morning sunshine. “She’s hiding something,” Kenzie said as they walked back to Reid’s car.
He tended to agree. “It might just be her finances. We need to check out her alibi. The gas station is bound to have a security camera.”
“We could go there now,” Kenzie said. “It’s not far away.”
The Bay Point Shell was a 24-hour gas station with a convenience store. Reid spotted two security cameras attached to the outside wall, pointing at the pumps. Sitting behind the checkout was a portly man in a straining shirt and faded denim jeans. He had a hangdog expression and dark rings under his eyes.
“You the owner?” asked Reid.
The man nodded. “Bill Preston. What can I do for you?”
Reid showed his badge. “I need to see your security footage from the night of July sixteenth.”
He scowled. “Don’t you need a warrant for that?”
Reid gritted his teeth. Everybody was an expert these days. He was about to say he could get one when Kenzie lowered her voice and leaned in. “We’re following a lead on the Swamp Strangler.”
His eyes lit up. “Seriously? You think he came here?”
“That’s what we need to check.”
He turned to the computer behind the checkout. “Give me a moment. July sixteenth, you say?”
“Yeah,” grunted Reid. He shot Kenzie a look.
“It worked, didn’t it?” she whispered back.
Preston tapped away and then said, “Here you go. Saturday night.”
“Do you mind if we come round?” Reid asked. The counter was piled high with racks of candy and other last-minute items.
“Sure.”
They crowded into the narrow space behind the counter and stared at his screen. The quality wasn’t great, and the video was in black and white, but they could still make out the vehicles coming in for gas.
“Can you forward it until eleven twenty p.m.?” asked Reid.
Preston did so, then stood back as the footage played in real time. Nothing happened. Nobody came in or out of the gas station.
“Speed it up again,” ordered Reid.
Preston did so and the images flashed past, blurry and jumpy.
“There!” Kenzie grabbed Reid’s arm. “That’s her, I’m sure of it.”
Preston slowed it down to real time and they watched as Gabriella Vincent climbed out of a smart Mercedes Benz and filled up the tank. She used her credit card to pay at the machine, without coming into the store.
“It’s definitely her.” Reid’s heart sank. “She was telling the truth.”
“Eleven forty-seven.” Kenzie read the timestamp. “I suppose she could have gone back to the beach. We don’t know what time Natalia was taken.”
“The Swamp Strangler’s a chick?” gaped Preston.
“An accomplice,” whispered Kenzie.
Preston gave an uncertain nod.
“Snake got back to the room at about one in the morning and she was gone,” Reid said. “That’s a window of at least an hour.”
Gabriella got back into her car and drove out of the frame.
“She was heading in the opposite direction,” murmured Reid.
“Yes, but she could have turned around up ahead and we’d never know. This could be her alibi. Maybe she planned this, just like she planned everything else.”
Reid bit his lip. It was possible, he’d give her that much, but something in his gut was telling him it wasn’t her.
They thanked Preston and got back into Reid’s pickup truck.
“I’m going to get forensics to sweep the hotel room.” He started the engine.
“I thought they’d already done that?”
“Nah. Natalia was never reported missing, so the hotel suite was never a crime scene. The police paid Snake a visit the next day, but they didn’t check for blood or DNA in the hotel room.”
Kenzie paused, then said, “You’re thinking the killer must have subdued Natalia somehow.”
“Yeah. If she didn’t leave voluntarily, he or she must have carried her out.”
“What if she was drugged?” Kenzie pointed out. “There’d be no trace evidence left in the suite.”
“I still think it’s worth a shot.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I agree. It’s a pity they didn’t send in CSI the day after she vanished. There might have been signs of struggle, or like you said, some DNA lying around. Now, the room would have been cleaned several times over.”
“Blood is hard to remove,” Reid said. “You can still pick it up months, if not years, after the event.”
“Let’s do it, then,” said Kenzie. “Let’s send them in.”
He couldn't resist a grin at the “let’s.” “I’ll call them now.”
11
Kenzie was fascinated by the crime scene investigation process. She always had been. As a girl, she’d watched the forensic team sweep her own house, serious men dressed in white from head to toe painstakingly searching room by room. They found nothing, of course. No trace of her mother.
She’d disappeared while at the Christmas market, not from their home. At the time, Kenzie had been confused by the sudden invasion of police officers and forensic specialists, but later, she understood they’d been investigating her father.
The spouse or partner was always top of the suspect list. On the day her mother vanished, Kenzie had been with her father and Uncle Larry at the market. Kenzie’s friend, Bethany, had also been there, and Bethany’s parents. Kenzie had gone to Santa’s Grotto with them, while her father and Larry went to sample the mulled wine. Her mother had wandered off, never to be seen again.
The police had scoured the area, but there was no trace of her. Nobody had seen a thing. The woman in the red coat had simply vanished.
“You okay?” asked Reid.
She turned to him. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was miles away.”
He gestured to the room. “They haven’t found anything. No blood on the carpet or the walls. They already changed the bed sheets, so there’s no chance of finding anything there, but I had hoped.” He trailed off.
“Me too,” she said. Finding Natalia’s blood in the room would have backed up their theory that she’d been abducted.
“There are other ways of subduing a pe
rson,” said Kenzie. “The kidnapper could have strangled her in the hotel room before carrying her off.”
“That’s a possibility.” Reid glanced around. “If the patio doors were unlocked or open, he could have snuck in and surprised her.”
“I suppose it’s pointless checking for prints?” Kenzie said.
“Yeah, with all the guests that have opened that door, it’ll be impossible to isolate any suspects.”
She sighed. “Now what?”
“Let’s walk down to the beach and trace Gabriella’s steps. I have to get back to work. I’ve got Natalia’s bank statements to go through, and Gabriella’s finance records.”
“I can help,” Kenzie said. “Let me do the bank statements. You take the finances.”
He hesitated. “Thanks. Do you have a printer?
She grinned. “Sure. I told you, I have everything.”
Kenzie lived in an updated one-story villa on East Bay Harbor Drive. It had a paved pathway leading to the front door and a small porch where she could sit and watch the sunset.
“Nice place.” Reid followed her up the path to the front door.
“Thanks. I bought it with the money my father left me, almost a decade ago.” She blew a strand of hair out of her face. “It feels like yesterday.”
“How’d he die?” Reid asked.
“Heart attack. He retired from the force the year before, and I always said it was the inactivity that killed him.”
“I know the feeling.”
She let them into the house. “Are you saying you’re glad to be back on the job?”
“In a way. This is only temporary for me. I doubt I’ll go back full time.”
“Why not?”
He didn’t reply.
“Because of what happened before?”
“Yeah.” He shifted his weight onto the other foot. “I can’t get past that. It was my investigation. My team.”
Kenzie turned to face him. “But not your fault. You didn’t pull the trigger. You couldn’t have known what her target was going to do.” She swallowed. “Just like I couldn’t have known he was going to read my article. Or that your girlfriend was still undercover.”
Reid moved a pile of books out of the way and put his laptop bag on the table.
“It’s terrible that happened,” she said. “But you can’t beat yourself up about it.”
“So everybody says.”
She picked up the pile of books and moved them onto the floor. “Sorry about the clutter. I need to get more bookshelves.”
Reid eyed the rows of bookshelves on the wall behind her. “I’m not sure where you’re going to put them.”
She laughed, easing the tension. “I’ll find somewhere.”
Kenzie put on a pot of coffee and took two ice-cold waters out of the fridge. She handed one to Reid. “Did you say you wanted to print those bank statements?”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”
“No problem. It’s a wireless printer. I’ll get you the code.”
When she got back, he was looking at a framed photograph on a side table. “This you?” He pointed to the blonde child.
“Yeah, with my mom. That was taken a couple days before she disappeared.”
Reid’s eyes widened. “Your mother disappeared? What happened to her?”
She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, yet knowing he’d see right through her. “No one knows. There was a police investigation, of course, but nothing ever came of it.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I had no idea.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Is that why you became a cop?” he asked.
The way he was looking at her, like he could see into her soul. “You mean did I become a cop because I couldn’t save her?”
He nodded.
“No. I’m not that cliched.” Maybe she was. “My dad was on the force. I think I just wanted to be like him. He raised me after she disappeared.”
“He sounds like a great guy.”
“Yeah, he was.” Most of the time.
She changed the subject. “Why don’t you print those documents and we can get started.”
He logged onto his laptop and set up the printer. Within five minutes they heard it spitting out pages in her study. Kenzie didn’t want to be rude, and the study wasn’t big enough for two, so she brought the copies and her laptop to the living room and set up on the other side of the round table.
“These are Gabriella’s finance records.” She passed him a pile. “I’ll take the statements.”
They got to work. Kenzie started with the most recent and worked backwards, going through each entry line by line. She looked for anything unusual or strange. Natalia spent a lot of time and money on spa treatments and lunches at the country club. Almost every day there was an expensive, frivolous purchase.
“The lives of the rich and famous,” she muttered.
“Find anything?” Reid asked.
“Not yet. You?”
“All looks legit, but if she was stealing money from Natalia, the cards would have been charged for things that didn’t exist or services Natalia hadn’t requested. I don’t know what those are.”
“I’ll take a look later, if you like,” Kenzie offered. “A second set of eyes is never a bad thing.”
She’d been at it for 45 minutes when she whistled under her breath.
Reid glanced up. “What?”
“I’ve found an anomaly.” She stabbed the page with her highlighter. “Natalia made a substantial payment to a company called AF Investments.”
“How much is substantial?” he asked.
“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
“Okay, that is substantial. What is AF Investments?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll look it up.”
Kenzie typed the name into a search engine. “According to their website, they’re an investment consulting firm catering to a small number of exclusive clients.”
“Are they based in Miami?” he asked.
“Yep. Downtown area.” She glanced at the time on her phone. “They’re still open.”
“Great. Let’s pay them a visit.”
Reid pulled up in front of the high rise housing AF Investments and gazed at the concrete and chrome monstrosity. “Do we know what floor they’re on?”
“Sixteenth.” She strained her neck. “How do we get in?”
“Over there.” The entrance was hidden under a promenade station platform with steps and walkways overhead. There was no parking on the street, so they drove into a nearby parking garage.
“How do you want to play this?” Kenzie asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, there might be a better way than flashing your badge and demanding to know what Natalia was paying him for.”
“There is?”
She grinned. “We could pretend to be prospective investors. Natalia recommended the firm and we’ve come to find out more about it.”
“You think that’ll work?”
She shrugged. “It’ll get us an appointment. If he’s dodgy, as soon as he sees your badge he’ll clam up and we’ll be lucky to get anything out of him.”
Reid considered this. She had a point. His usual forthright approach might not be the best way forward in this instance.
“Okay, we’ll do it your way, but just until we’re in there. If he doesn’t give us the information, we’re going to have to revert to Plan B.”
“Fair enough.”
Her eyes gleamed, and he realized she was enjoying this. “You like playing a part, don’t you?” he said as they got out of the car. “You like being somebody else.”
“If it gets me what I want.” She shot him a sideways look.
“You’re very good at it. Manipulating people into talking to you.”
“Thank you. I think. Anyway, let’s not jinx it. AF Investments might not be so open to manipulation as others, especially if they’re manipulators themselves.”
> They entered through a set of automatic glass doors that hissed shut behind them. They found themselves in a vast, brightly lit lobby. There was nothing in it other than two elevators.
“The only way is up,” remarked Kenzie, pressing the button to open the doors.
They flew up to the sixteenth floor, where the elevator announced their arrival with a loud ping. Reid rested his hand on his weapon, beneath his shirt. He wasn’t a fan of sudden entrances, particularly when he didn’t know what was on the other side of the door.
He didn’t have to worry. They emerged into a small, welcoming foyer composed of plush carpeting and a leather sofa under a permanently sealed window. There was no receptionist, just a pad on the reinforced glass door with a button on it.
Reid inspected it. The sticker read “AF Investments.”
He pressed it, then waited. Kenzie came to stand beside him.
A female voice said, “Yes? Can I help you?”
He glanced up and saw the omnipotent eye of a security camera bulging down at them. He forced a smile. “Hello. We don’t have an appointment, but we’d like to speak to someone about investment opportunities.”
A pause.
“Take a seat. Someone will be with you shortly.”
Reid shrugged at Kenzie and they sat down.
A short time later, two men approached the door. Both were wearing expensive Italian suits, but while one was middle-aged and balding, the other was in his late thirties, broad-shouldered, and definitely packing.
Reid stared at the younger man and froze. He’d recognize that face anywhere. Every line, every curve ingrained in his memory.
“You okay?” whispered Kenzie.
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He never thought he’d see that face again.
Kenzie followed his gaze. “Who is he?”
Reid gritted his teeth and tried to remain calm. “That’s the man who killed Bianca.”
12
There was no time to ask Reid for an explanation before the two men shook hands and the soundproof glass door opened.
“I’ll be in touch,” the younger man said, before pressing the button to summon the elevator. It opened immediately, again with a loud ping.