Chapter 2
JD and I didn't normally handle this kind of thing. We were Special Crimes. But since Jack wasn't in a position to handle much of anything at the moment, the sheriff handed us something that wasn't typically in our wheelhouse. Something I could handle on my own.
The for-sale sign in the yard told me exactly what she was doing here.
I pulled up, parked the bike, and killed the engine.
Zoe’s confused eyes surveyed me. She’d called the Sheriff's Department but wasn’t expecting a guy like me to show up.
I pulled off my helmet and ran my fingers through my hair. I hung the helmet from the handlebars and climbed off the bike. With a flash of the badge, I said, "Deputy Wild. Coconut County."
Disappointment tensed her face. "This is it? This is all the department is sending?"
I tried not to take offense and forced a smile. "This is what you get.”
She huffed. "I'm glad to know the sheriff’s department is taking this seriously."
"How about you tell me what's going on?”
Her nervous eyes glanced around to see if anyone was watching.
This was the kind of place where everybody knew everybody else's business. Gossip was one of the prime forms of entertainment in Stingray Bay.
Down the street, a couple of kids tossed a ball. In the other direction, a middle-aged guy washed his Porsche 911. This was the kind of place where you didn’t have to wash your own car if you didn’t want to. He could have paid someone. But no one was going to lay a hand on his baby but him.
The driveways were filled with expensive SUVs and exotic sports cars. Cookie-cutter mansions and perfectly manicured hedges. Swaying palm trees presided over the luxurious estates.
"I don't really want to talk about this here," Zoe said. "Let's walk around to the backyard."
I was amenable to that.
Zoe grabbed her photo bag from the ground and slung it over her shoulder. She picked up her quadcopter drone, and I followed her across the lawn. We moved up the driveway to the back patio.
Lounge chairs surrounded the sparkling pool. The space was made for entertaining. With a full bar, an outdoor kitchen, and a barbecue grill, you could almost smell the traces of hamburgers and margaritas from days past.
Zoe gave another cautious glance around, but we were in the clear. Nobody was in earshot. "I got hired to shoot the interior and exterior of the house. I was doing aerial drone shots when I saw it.”
"Saw what?"
"I didn't mean to spy. But it just caught my eye. I had a clear view into the neighbor’s house,” she said, pointing next door.
I just shook my head. "People have a reasonable expectation of privacy in their homes."
"Like I said, I just caught an angle by accident. That's when I saw him hit her.”
"Who hit who?”
She gave me an exasperated look. "I don't know. I have no idea who lives in that home. But you need to go over there and make sure she's okay.” Then she said in a sassy voice, "Beating your wife can't be legal, can it?”
"No, it's not legal." After a pause, I said, "I'd like to take a look at the footage.”
Zoe frowned. "I wasn't recording at the time. I had just gotten the drone up into the air and was planning out my shot.”
I exhaled and said, "That house right there?"
Zoe nodded.
"Okay, I'll do a knock and talk. See what's what.”
"What if she's hurt? What if there is ongoing abuse?"
"If I see evidence of abuse, and she corroborates it, I'll make an arrest.”
A frown tightened Zoe’s lips. "What if she's too scared to tell the truth?”
"Let's hope she's willing to come forward if there's a problem."
"There's a problem!” Zoe said, adamant. “I witnessed it.”
"Stay here. I'll be right back.”
I dug into my pocket and handed her a card before I left.
I walked down the driveway and traipsed across the lawn to the mansion next door. I walked past the convertible Maserati and rang the video doorbell at the courtyard gate.
A few moments later, a woman's voice crackled through the speaker. "Can I help you?”
I flashed my badge to the lens and made introductions. “I just have a few questions for you, ma’am.”