The Perfect Impression

by Pierce, Blake

  He nodded, mentally going through the most likely candidates.

  “We’ve talked to Theo Aldridge,” he said. “The Landers are each other’s alibi, supposedly going at it in their room. Steve Crewe and Rich Ferro back each other up, at least part of the time. So I say we talk to Melissa Ferro. We never got an answer for what she was doing before finding Gabby. If she was hooking up with a hotel employee and we let her know that’s not our primary concern, maybe she’ll come clean. If she’s still evasive, then we know we might have something.”

  Jessie smiled for what felt like the first time in hours.

  “I like that plan, Detective,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

  *

  They found Melissa Ferro at the rooftop bar.

  There was a smattering of guests around but none near the spot she’d picked out in a corner facing the ocean. As they approached her, Jessie took a moment to appreciate the view she wasn’t able to see upon her late-night arrival. The bay was dotted with the white hulls of dozens of sailboats, all bobbing forcefully in the choppy water. White-capped waves tore toward the island before getting rebuffed by the rock seawall, sending ocean spray high into the air. The rhythmic, comforting motion made Jessie’s eyes heavy.

  Ferro was bundled up against the wind, covered in complimentary hotel blankets. She wore sunglasses and an oversized hat that looked about to fly off despite being tied tightly under her chin. She was holding a glass mug with both hands.

  Jessie imagined herself settling in like that and knew that if she did, she’d be asleep in ten seconds. The very thought gave her a small, guilt-induced surge of adrenaline. Gabby Crewe was lying on a slab somewhere. She’d never have a comforting nap again. The least the profiler investigating her death could do was stay awake long enough to get her justice.

  “That doesn’t look like coffee,” she noted as she sat down uninvited. Peters pulled up a chair beside her.

  “It’s a hot toddy,” the woman responded. “And it’s not my first this morning. I’m going for numb today.”

  “Well, then I’m glad we caught you before it took full effect,” Peters said, taking the initiative. “We didn’t get to finish talking last night before your friend Steve burst in.”

  “I don’t really have much to add,” Ferro replied, sounding pretty numb already.

  “You might be surprised at what doesn’t seem important to you but is valuable to us,” he told her, leaning in as he pulled out his notepad. “For example, you told us that prior to returning to your room last night you were ‘flitting about.’ Can you expand on that?”

  With the sunglasses on, Jessie couldn’t ascertain Ferro’s full expression but her lips did purse tightly together before she responded, rarely a sign that one was comfortable with the question being asked.

  “I just meant that I was all over place, talking to old friends from past visits, joking around with the staff. At a certain point, I wasn’t feeling so great, so I went to the room.”

  “I thought you said you went to the room to freshen up,” Peters pressed.

  Melissa Ferro smiled condescendingly.

  “I was being discreet, Detective. I didn’t want to say that I thought I was going to vomit.”

  Peters nodded understandingly.

  “Speaking of being discreet, Mrs. Ferro,” he said confidingly, “I’ve worked here on the island for a few years. I’m intimately familiar with the special relationship this hotel has with its guests. So if you happened to go to your room less out of illness and more for a little extracurricular activity, you can tell us. Our focus today isn’t on being puritanical. We’re trying find out who killed your friend. If you can give us the name of someone who can confirm your whereabouts with more specificity than you have so far, it would serve you well.”

  Jessie sat in silence, marveling at Peters’s ability to ask his question without accusation or alienation. Where was this guy all last night?

  Ferro seemed to be weighing how to answer. It was obvious that she had done something last night that she wanted to hide. The question now was whether it was simply naughty or something more substantial.

  “I’m not sure what’s considered a crime,” she finally replied. “I’m wondering if I need to protect myself.”

  Peters smiled sympathetically.

  “Look, Melissa,” he said, adopting the persona of a close confidant. “I know how these things work. A guest spends some private time with an employee. At the end of the guest’s stay, they often give a sizable to tip to that employee. There’s a haziness there that protects the guest. If I was trying to make a case involving solicitation, you might be at some legal risk, though it would be hard to prove. But I’m not trying to make that case. Ms. Hunt and I are after a killer. If you can give us the name of someone who can absolve you of that killing, it would serve you well.”

  “I just don’t want to go to jail,” she implored.

  Jessie wondered if this might be the time to jump in, fearing they might be about to scare her off. But Peters gave an imperceptible shake of his head so she held her tongue.

  “I can’t tell you what to do,” he said. “I am a law enforcement officer. There’s always some risk in these situations. But unless you killed Gabby, you’re almost certainly better off being straight with us.”

  Melissa Ferro took a big gulp of her hot toddy and wiped her mouth. She seemed to have come to a decision.

  “His name is Alejandro,” she said quietly, barely audible over the whipping wind. “Everyone calls him Jandro for short. He works at the golf club next door. When Rich and I play, he’s always my caddy. He’s very knowledgeable. Rich says he should be a club instructor. Sometimes he’ll give me…private instruction. That’s what he was doing last night when I went up to my room.”

  “What time was that?” Peters asked matter-of-factly, not lingering on the details of the instruction.

  “I know I told you earlier that I got to my suite at eleven fifteen. But that wasn’t true. We agreed to meet there at ten forty-five. I went up a little before that, around ten forty, to get into something comfortable.”

  “Did you see Gabby when you went up?” he pressed.

  She shook her head.

  “Did you see a room service tray beside her door?” Jessie asked, interjecting for the first time since sitting down. Ferro thought for a moment.

  “I was pretty drunk but I don’t think so. I feel like I would have noticed it since her suite was so close to ours.”

  Jessie made a mental note that if Melissa Ferro was being honest, someone had taken the tray into the Crewe suite between 10:36, when Esteban/Tex the room service waiter dropped it off, and 10:40. Did that mean Gabby was alive at that time or that she was already dead and her killer had brought it inside? The latter seemed like a risky move. What if someone in the hall saw him or her? She glanced over at Peters and could tell that he was asking himself all the same questions.

  “What time did Jandro leave your suite?” he asked.

  “He was contracted for a half hour—er, I mean…”

  “It’s okay,” Peters assured her. “We’re not worried about that part. We just need the times.”

  “Right,” Ferro said. “He left at around ten after the hour. I cleaned myself up and went to see what Gabby was up to. Like I told you last night, it was about eleven twenty. That’s when I saw that the door wasn’t quite closed. You know the rest.”

  “That’s very helpful,” he told her. “One more question: did Gabby tell you if she was going to be having a rendezvous of her own that evening?”

  “No, but I didn’t ask.”

  Peters looked over at Jessie to see if she had any additional questions. She shook her head that she didn’t.

  “Would Jandro be on the golf course now?” he asked, standing up. Jessie did the same.

  “It’s where I’d look,” Ferro said, seeming to lose her focus now that she knew she was no longer under their spotlight. They walked across the roof and into the elev
ator.

  “I should have come clean with you earlier,” Peters muttered after several seconds of silence. “We’re probably going to be able to eliminate half our suspects through their partners last night. I wasted so much time.”

  “Spilled milk,” Jessie told him as the doors opened to the lobby. “Let’s just maximize what we have left.”

  Peters nodded, leading the way to the door connecting the hotel to the golf clubhouse. When they entered the pro shop, Jessie looked around. The place was small, but it was filled to the brim with all manner Catalina-centric tchotchkes, from balls to tees to cheesy polo shirts. Peters caught the eye of the man behind the pro shop desk.

  “Where can we find Jandro?” he asked.

  The guy pointed through a glass door, where three young guys in khakis and long-sleeved white shirts were sitting on a bench, joking around. It wasn’t clear who the pro shop guy was referring to.

  “Which one?” Peters asked.

  Before the man could answer, one of the guys glanced in their direction. He took one look at Peters in his Sheriff’s Department uniform, then leapt up and started running.

  “I guess we have our answer,” Peters said, breaking into a run.

  Jessie was right behind him.

  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.