Chapter 10 #2
“You look frazzled,” Michael commented.
“I have hardly slept since you arrested Garrett. The owners’ group had been pleased this was resolved, and then I heard your
agents are missing and that Garrett Reid may not be guilty. Monday’s my day off, I was three hours away visiting my sister
when Brian called me this morning.”
Michael made note of Alena’s whereabouts, just in case he needed to follow up.
“Reid is involved,” Michael said. “He may be working with a partner.”
She stared at him. “Two killers? Oh, jeez. What do you need? Has Brian been helpful?”
“Yes,” Michael said. He ran through what they determined had happened yesterday and then showed Alena the photo of their suspect.
“Do you recognize this person?”
She looked, shook her head. “I can’t see their face. It could be anyone.”
Michael put the photo back into his folder. “If Garrett makes bail this afternoon, what are your plans?”
Her eyes widened. “My plans? My plans for what? Why would he make bail? He’s suspected of killing six people!”
“Because we’re still investigating, and a good attorney could get him released with bond.”
“That’s insane. I have no plans for Garrett. He has been terminated. He won’t be allowed on the property. Are you saying he
may walk free?” She glanced at her phone, frowned, but turned back to Michael without addressing whatever she’d read.
“Temporarily,” Michael said. He understood why the management would be upset, but Alena seemed personally agitated. “Do you
have something to add?”
“No,” she said quickly, too quickly, and she didn’t look directly at him.
He asked, “Was anyone on staff close to Garrett? Did you ever see him alone with a man or woman, perhaps someone he was romantically
involved with?”
She shook her head. “He was the last person I thought would be guilty.”
Michael inwardly winced. He was tired of hearing how nice, helpful, and unproblematic Garrett Reid was. “Killers often don’t
look violent. So you know of no close friends? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?”
There was no reason, based on his history, to believe that Garrett was gay, but it was a thread they needed to close off.
“No. And I don’t get involved in the private lives of staff. Carlos is Garrett’s supervisor, he’s the most likely to know
about his personal life.”
“I’ve spoken to him,” Michael said.
Alena looked at her phone again. “Agent Harris, I have a minor crisis to deal with. I have two guests giving my assistant manager a difficult time right now, demanding a free stay because of this situation. The head of housekeeping is threatening to quit because in her words, ‘There’s a killer on staff,’ and I have two security officers who called in sick this afternoon, so I’m severely short-staffed. ”
Michael was interested in those security officers, but would talk to Brian about it.
“I understand if you need to go. I’ll reach out if I have more questions.”
Alena stood, walked to the door, turned back to him. “Agent Harris, I really hope you resolve this situation sooner rather
than later. Our reputation is on the line, and while I feel awful that something bad happened to our guests, I have this resort
and more than a hundred employees to protect.”
He watched her leave, then texted Ryder.
Alena Porter was visiting her sister today. Verify her whereabouts.
Michael didn’t think that the manager had anything to do with the murders. She knew about the undercover operation, and Michael
couldn’t imagine that she would have drugged and removed Matt and Kara from the premises, but he wasn’t taking chances. He
would cover all the bases.
The last person who came in was Hope Davidson. According to her employee file, she had worked here for the last four months
and was thirty-five, though she looked younger. She was also very attractive and physically fit, which was to be expected
of someone who worked in a gym.
She hadn’t worked Friday or Saturday, so no one had interviewed her yet.
“I’m shocked,” she said, clutching a bottle of water. “First Garrett, now this?” She shook her head.
“According to the security cameras, Agent Costa and Detective Quinn entered the gym at approximately 8:30 on Sunday morning
to work out and then play racquetball. You assisted them.”
She nodded, her golden-brown eyes wide. “When they were done with their workout, they came to me for equipment, and I showed them how to work the stereo. You can hook up to Bluetooth to play music through your phone.”
“Did you notice anyone in the gym who was paying undue attention to them?”
She frowned, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t think so? I mean, it wasn’t super busy—the Sunday brunch in the restaurant is popular,
so I either get the hardcore workout people early, or the after-brunch people coming in for yoga or racquetball. Most people
check out on Sunday, so it’s not really that busy after eleven.”
“How many people were working out or in the facility while Costa and Quinn were there?”
“Maybe . . . ten or eleven? There was a yoga class that started at ten—I don’t teach that one, that’s Denise. There were six
people there, all women, and then four or five people in the gym. Oh! And that doesn’t include the pool. There was a family
at the pool and a couple people, but I don’t know how many, I’m so sorry. I should know that, shouldn’t I?” She bit her lip.
“It’s okay,” Michael said. He was used to dealing with witnesses who became upset when they couldn’t answer all his questions.
“I’m aware that the resort doesn’t capture key cards to use the gym.” Some hotels made guests swipe into the gym, but not
Sapphire Shoals. “What time did they leave?”
“Around ten thirty, maybe a little after that? We only have two racquetball rooms, and there were guests waiting. They played
real hard. I suggested they go to the pool to cool off, but the female guest—Kara?—she said they had plans.”
“Did you notice anyone follow them out?”
She shook her head and looked concerned. “I really didn’t. I had other guests to tend to, and I was training a new employee.”
“That’s okay. Thank you for your time.”
She got up, started for the door, then turned to him. Her eyes had tears, but she blinked them back. “Did Garrett really . . . I mean . . . did he really kill those people? That’s what everyone is saying.”
They hadn’t yet charged him with murder, but Michael wasn’t surprised that staff was talking about it—it wasn’t a secret that
three couples had disappeared from the resort and were later found dead.
“It’s an ongoing investigation,” Michael said.
“But you arrested him. Right? He’s in jail—that’s what Alena said.”
“He is in jail,” Michael confirmed. He didn’t know how long that would last. Catherine wasn’t confident that the judge would
deny bail, especially since they’d found zero evidence that he had killed anyone. Michael felt sick to his stomach that their
entire case was falling apart.
“It’s like, you don’t really know people, do you? He always seemed like such a nice guy.”
“Brian will reach out if we have additional questions. When do you get off work?”
“Usually I work five in the morning until one, but Brian asked me to stay because you wanted to talk to me.”
“I appreciate your time,” Michael said, and Hope walked out.
Michael quickly wrote up his notes, then sent Brian a text message that he’d like to talk to the employee in training, but
that was a long shot.
He had nothing. Ryder was checking into their one small lead—the uniforms—but so far, zilch. He texted his Jacksonville FBI
contact about the lab results from their room, though he knew nothing would be back this quickly, no matter how quickly they
expedited it. He sent the team a status report.
And then he stared at the wall. He felt helpless. Matt and Kara had been missing for more than twenty-four hours and he didn’t
know how to find them.