Jennifer narrowed her eyes. “Are you satisfied now?”
“Not quite,” David said.
“Why not?”
“We all know the Centennial isn’t exactly a state-of-the-art theater. The place has no security cameras. But it does have two exits. One at the front of the theater—and one at the back.”
“What are you implying?”
“That you could have watched the movie for a couple of minutes and then slipped out the back.”
Jennifer gave David a blank stare. “Why would I do that?”
“You might have figured that the ticket stub would provide a solid enough alibi for the time of the murder,” David said. “And with the lights down in the theater, no one would have noticed you leaving through the back door.”
“I watched the whole movie. Ask me how it ends,” Jennifer said.
“You could have looked up the ending online,” David said.
Jennifer groaned. “This is maddening.”
“Face it. You don’t have a verifiable alibi for the time of the murder,” David said. “But there is plenty of suspicions surrounding you. For example, where were you just going?”
“To the grocery store,” Jennifer said.
David peered at the backseat. He didn’t see any moving boxes or large bags. Instead, there were just some empty tote bags on the seat.
He turned his focus back to Jennifer. “You weren’t looking to leave town then?”
Jennifer scoffed. “Are you crazy?”
He snickered. “With your history, you’re going to ask me that question?”
“I can’t leave town. That would be a violation of my parole,” Jennifer said.
“Right now, I’m worried about a lot more than the conditions of your parole.”
“You’re wasting your time worrying about me.”
“With all those years you spent in jail, are you really going to tell me that you never thought about getting revenge on Wally?”
“Detective, you aren’t thinking straight,” Jennifer said.
“What a funny statement, coming from you,” David said.
“Seriously. Once you’ve been in jail, you never want to go back.”
“Yeah? Then how do you account for all the repeat offenders who find themselves back behind bars shortly after getting out on parole? It’s staggering the amount of criminals who end up in the slammer a second time,” David said.
“Instead of arguing numbers with you, I will say this. I’m not just some statistic,” Jennifer replied.
“I’d like to believe that—”
Jennifer cut David off. “Look. You can keep questioning me all you want, but we both know you don’t have anything on me. Otherwise, you’d already have me in handcuffs. Now, can I go get some groceries?”
David didn’t give up on the interview that easily. He lobbed a few more questions Jennifer’s way, but she didn’t give him anything useful to work with.
Ultimately, a few minutes later, we moved on.
But since David considered Jennifer to be a flight risk, he assigned a deputy to follow her around and keep tabs on her.
Chapter Fourteen
The Treasure Cove Resort had an enviable location. It was right on the water and had direct beach access. Talk about a perfect vacation spot. In addition to its fantastic geographic placement, the property itself was stunning. It was a marvel of modern architecture. If that wasn’t enough to warrant a trip, the grounds were dotted with beautiful landscaping. It truly was a feast for the eyes.
As David and I walked to the front of the hotel from the parking lot, I couldn’t help but remark, “It never ceases to amaze me how beautiful this place is.”
David replied sarcastically, “It’s a shame the neighborhood stinks so much, though.”
I laughed. Then I responded with some humor of my own. “Of course. Who would ever want to be near the ocean?”
“Not me. Sand and sun are overrated,” David deadpanned.
I kept gazing at the carefully manicured grounds. “In all seriousness, I could live here.”
His eyebrows knitted. “At a hotel?”
“On the ocean, I mean,” I said.
David chuckled. “We’re only about a million dollars away from that happening.”
“Hey, I can dream. Besides, there’s always a chance that we’ll win the lottery,” I said.
Never mind the fact that yesterday’s ticket was a complete bust. I didn’t even pick one correct number. That said, there was another lotto drawing in a few days.
“Honey, I love your optimism. But we’re investigating yet another murder. It’s safe to say that luck is in short supply right now,” David replied.
I exhaled. “I can’t argue with that.”
“It’s probably best not to argue anyway. We already get enough of that from the murder suspects.”
“There’s always a chance that these suspects will be open and truthful with us.”
David let out a big laugh. “Good one. We have a better chance of winning the lottery than the suspects being honest with us.”
***
I couldn’t allow myself to get wrapped up in the grandeur of the hotel. After all, I wasn’t there because I was on vacation. There was deadly serious business to attend to. David and I entered the lobby and headed toward the reception desk.
Matt Gibson stood behind the desk and greeted a balding, Hawaiian-shirt-clad guest with a smile. It wouldn’t take long for Matt’s grin to fade.
David and I waited patiently for the guest to check in.
A few minutes later, the balding guest grabbed his room key, and then walked away from the desk, rolling his luggage behind him.
Matt then looked at me and David.
“Welcome to the Treasure Cove Beach Resort. My name is Matt.”
I stared back at the clean-shaven fifty-one-year-old. He was a tall thin man with an angular face and hazel eyes.
Normally, when David spoke with a murder suspect, he immediately flashed his police badge and launched straight into questioning. This time, he left his badge in his pocket and eased his way into the conversation with some light banter.
“What a resort it is. This place is really something,” David said.
“I’m glad you like it. We strive to please,” Matt said.
“You seem to be doing a good job of it,” David said. He gazed out the lobby window, which overlooked the Pacific Ocean. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“It’s hard to have a bad day at the beach,” Matt said.
David smiled. “Isn’t that the truth?”
“It certainly is.”
“I’ll bet you wish you were at the beach right now instead of being stuck in here.”
Matt shrugged. “We all have to make a living.”
David nodded. “Those bills aren’t going to pay themselves.”
“They sure aren’t,” Matt said.
“It’s a shame too, because there are so many other things I’d rather do with my time than work. For example, I was sitting on my back patio last night, drinking a cold one, while staring at the glorious full moon,” David said.
“Lucky you,” Matt said.
“Wait. Did you not see the moon last night?” David asked.
Matt shook his head. “I missed it.”
“That’s a shame. Were you working last night?”
“No. I was off. I just didn’t catch the moon.”
“Well, maybe next time.”
“Perhaps,” Matt said. “Now how can I help you? Are you checking in?”
“We’re not actually hotel guests. But you can help me,” David said.
“Okay. What can I do for you?” Matt asked.
“Since we’ve already established that you weren’t working last night, I’d like to know what you were doing yesterday evening,” David said.
Matt’s nose crinkled. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
David pulled out his police badge.
“On the contrary, it’s very much my business.”
Matt’s eyes bulged. “Wait a minute. You’re a cop?”
“I’m a detective,” David said.
Matt’s muscles tensed. “What do you want with me?”
“I’d like you to answer my question.”
“Why don’t you tell me what this is all about first?” Matt asked. “I have a right to know.”
“Matt, it was a very simple question. Why are you making things so complicated? Unless you were doing something illegal—”
“No. Of course not. I’m just really confused why you’re here talking to me,” Matt said.
David narrowed his eyes. “Let me make this very clear. I’m going to get an answer from you. Now you can either tell me here, or I will drag you back to the police station. It’s your call. So what’s it going to be?”
Matt exhaled. “I was at home watching the Marauders game last night.”
The Marauders were a local baseball team.
David grimaced. “What a tough loss, huh?”
Matt nodded. “Yeah. The Marauders are in desperate need of better relief pitching.”
“Maybe they’ll make a deal before the trade deadline,” David replied. “That said, there are worse ways to spend an evening than watching sports. Did you have some friends over?”
Matt shook his head.
“And what did you do once the game was over?” David asked.
“I called it an early night. After all, I had to get up at the crack of dawn to come in to work today.”
“If that’s what really happened then why were you so hesitant to answer my question earlier?” David asked.
“Because I had no idea why you were here,” Matt said. “I still don’t. Now why don’t you tell me what this is about?”
David held his pointer finger up. “Let me make something clear. I’m the one asking the questions around here. Got it?”
Matt took a step back. “Look. I’m not looking to start trouble. But I have a right to know what’s going on.”
“Wally Tuttle is dead,” David said.
Matt’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”
David nodded.
“But how?” Matt asked.
“He was murdered.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
The reaction on Matt’s face went from shock to outrage in a heartbeat. “Wait a minute. Is that why you asked me where I was yesterday?”
While Matt had raised his voice, David made sure to keep an even keel. “Will you please calm down?” David asked.
Matt ignored David’s request. “That’s it, isn’t it? You think I might have had something to do with Wally’s death.”
“We know you were upset about Wally being promoted over you,” David said. “You also had a lot to gain from Wally being out of the picture.”
“This is insane.”
“Do you really want to make a scene right here in the lobby of your workplace? What if your manager sees you flying off the handle like this?”
Matt lowered his voice volume. But his sense of outrage remained. “You have a lot of nerve, coming to my job, and throwing around crazy accusations.”
“We haven’t accused you of anything,” I said.
“Really? Because you’re sure acting like I had something to do with Wally’s murder.”
“Mr. Gibson, it’s my job to find out who killed Wally—”
“Let me save you some time. It wasn’t me,” Matt said.
“I wish I could believe that,” David said.
Matt threw out his arms. “Why can’t you?”
“To start, you have no one to verify your alibi,” David said. “In addition, you have plenty of motive—”
Matt shook his head. “Not compared to my boss. Now there’s someone who had every reason to kill Wally.”
“When you say your boss, you mean—?”
“Amanda Hartley. The director of rooms.”
“The same director that recently promoted Wally a few months ago?” David asked.
Matt nodded.
A look of confusion came to David’s face. “What reason did Amanda have for wanting Wally dead?”
“Simple. The affair she was having with Wally cost Amanda her marriage,” Matt said.
David held his hand out. “Wait a minute. You’re saying Amanda and Wally were sleeping together?”
Matt nodded. “Oh yeah. Things were getting really hot and heavy between them too. Until Amanda’s husband found out what was going on.”
“How do you know about this?” I asked.
“I overheard Amanda and Wally talking about it in the parking lot one night,” Matt said. “Amanda told Wally that her marriage was in shambles.”
“What else did she say?” I asked.
“She tried to convince Wally to leave his wife.”
“How did that go?”
“Wally said no.”
My eyes widened. “Really?”
Matt nodded. “According to Wally, he never intended for their affair to be more than a fling.”
“I’ll bet Amanda didn’t respond well to that.”
“No,” Matt said. “She flew off the handle.”
“What happened next?”
“Amanda got so mad that she anonymously called Wally’s wife and told her that Wally had been sleeping around.”
My nose scrunched. “And you know this because?”
“I heard Amanda and Wally arguing about it in the back room two nights ago,” Matt said.
David and I both took a moment to process this news.
Before I had the chance to formulate a reply, Matt spoke up.
“In addition, Amanda had the day off work yesterday,” Matt said. “So if there’s anyone you should be questioning right now, it’s her.”
“Don’t worry. Amanda will be hearing from us,” David said.
“Good,” Matt said.
“When we’re done with you,” David said.
Confusion came to Matt’s face. “But we are done.”
David smirked. “Nice try. But there is still plenty of suspicion surrounding you.”
Matt folded his arms. “Do you have any evidence that I did anything wrong?”
“At the moment, no,” David said.
“That’s what I thought,” Matt said. “Now if you’ll excuse me. I have to get back to work.”
David held his pointer finger up. “Not so fast.”
Matt groaned. “What now?”
“Is Amanda here today?” David asked.
Matt nodded.
“I want you to call her over here,” David said. “And I don’t want you to tell her who we are or what we’re doing here.”
Chapter Fifteen
Matt followed David’s orders. While the front desk clerk called his boss, David and I moved to the other side of the lobby and stared out the window. A minute later, Amanda Hartley came out of a back office and walked across the lobby to speak with us.
The fifty-two-year-old had fiery red hair, which really stood out when contrasted with her navy-blue work uniform. Amanda had freckles on her square face and was wearing a shade of red lipstick that matched her hair. Her work skirt and blouse fit comfortably on her trim figure.
Amanda greeted us with her guard up. I didn’t think it was because she knew we were here investigating a murder. Instead, she seemed to have the apprehension of a manager who had been yelled at by too many hotel guests in the past.
“I was told you wanted to see me,” Amanda said.
“Are you the manager?” David asked.
Amanda nodded. “I am. Is there a problem?”
“I’m afraid so,” David said.
Amanda gulped. “What is it?”
“I have some bad news about one of your employees.”
“Which one?”
“Wally Tuttle.”
“Is he in some sort of trouble?” Amanda asked.
“Not exactly,” David said.
“He’s dead.”
She became choked up. “I can’t believe it. What happened to him?”
“He was murdered,” David said.
Amanda spoke very slowly. “Did you just say—?”
“Mrs. Hartley. Do you need a tissue?” David asked.
Amanda shook her head. “No. Just give me a minute.” She took a few deep breaths.
“It’s heartbreaking, isn’t it?” David asked.
She nodded. “Completely devastating.”
“Unfortunately, that’s not all.”
Amanda squinted. “What do you mean?”
“Wally’s killer is currently on the loose,” David said.
Amanda grimaced. “That’s terrifying.”
“It sure is,” David said. “That’s why we’re here right now.”
Amanda’s eyes widened. “Wait. Do you think the killer might be here?”
“We don’t know. But we’re exploring every option. And we’d really like your help,” David said.
Amanda held her hand up. “Before we go any further, should the hotel guests be concerned? How about the staff?”
“I don’t think they are in any immediate danger,” David said.
Amanda breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good to know.”
David nodded. “That’s probably the only positive news I have to share. Now, back to Wally Tuttle’s murder. I’m going to need to ask you some questions. For example, where were you last night?”
Amanda’s nose crinkled. “Why do you want to know that?”
“It’s all just standard procedure. I need to include your answer in my report,” David said.
Amanda shrugged. “But why is this conversation going to be a part of your report?”
“Will you please just answer the question?” David said.
Amanda stared long and hard at David. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Mrs. Hartley, I believe that is a question I should be asking you,” David said.
She narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Mrs. Hartley, we have it on good authority that you were sleeping with Wally,” David said.
Amanda scoffed. “I don’t know where you heard that from, but—”
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