Chapter 16
"Vanessa's phone was off the grid during the time of the murders," Isabella said.
I lifted a curious eyebrow.
"As to your prior question, Andrew Holt's wife has been in Los Angeles since Monday of last week. Flight records confirm that, and her phone pings the tower from an apartment in West Hollywood. So I think you can rule out the theory of her shoving her husband into shark-infested waters."
“What about Ethan Rexrode?”
She told me some interesting details.
"Thanks, I appreciate the info.”
"Any time.”
I ended the call, and we headed across the island to find Ethan. According to the records, he lived aboard a 78-foot starter yacht in Sandpiper Point. It was an upscale marina full of tech types, business magnates, and trust fund babies.
Jack pulled into the lot and found a place to park. We strolled the dock, looking for the Obsession. It was a sleek boat with a navy hull, white trim, and windswept lines.
We crossed the gangway to the teak swim platform and climbed the steps to the aft deck. It had a large sun pad, a dining area, a bar, and port-side steps that led up to the flybridge. I banged on the glass door to the salon.
A few moments later, a guy in his mid-20s with curly sandy-blond hair climbed a companionway, padded across the airy salon, and greeted us at the door. He had brown eyes, a square jaw, and the ripped physique of a surfer.
"What do you want?"
I flashed my badge and made introductions.
His face tensed, and his nervous eyes flicked between the two of us. "What's the problem?"
"No problem. We just need to ask you a few questions.”
"I don't talk to cops.”
He started to shut the sliding door, but I put my foot in the track.
He clenched his jaw and glared at me. It was a bullshit move, but I wanted to talk to the guy.
"Look, you’re not in any trouble. But you might be able to help us."
"Help you?" he said with a wrinkled brow and eyes full of disbelief.
"I don't know if you're aware, but Eden Saint is dead.”
Ethan frowned. "I know.”
"I bet you’re pretty bummed about that."
"Why do you say that?”
"You were her biggest fan."
Confusion wrinkled his brow. "How do you know that?"
His nervous eyes darted between us again.
"We talked to some of Eden's friends.”
"So?”
"You spent a lot of money with her.”
"What can I say? She just did it for me.”
"For that kind of money, I’d want her to do a lot for me."
"Yeah, well, she didn't feel that way.”
"How did that make you feel?”
"Made me feel like I didn’t want to give her any more money.”
"Yet you still gave her more," I said.
"A sucker’s born every minute."
"Speaking of, where does all that money come from?”
His brow knitted again. "What business is that of yours?”
I shrugged. "I don't know. It's just a lot of money to spend. What do you do for a living?"
"None of your goddamn business."
"Can you tell me where you were at the time of Eden’s murder?”
He glared at me. "I don't know. When was she murdered?"
I told him.
"I was here.”
"Can anyone verify that?”
"I was by myself."
"Why was your phone turned off?”
His face tightened again. "You’re looking at my phone records?”
"No, but you just confirmed it." I didn’t want to go into detail about the fact that we had illegally accessed his records.
"I didn't confirm shit.”
"You mind if we take a look around your boat?”
"I mind. I'd like you to leave now.”
"We need to do a routine compliance inspection. Make sure you’ve got all your paperwork in order, life vests, flares, that kind of thing."
Ethan gritted his teeth. "You guys are assholes.”
We stared each other down for a moment, then he stepped aside and motioned us in. "Do what you gotta do, but I don't give you permission to search my boat."
If in the course of our inspection we saw anything actionable, we could pursue it. But we didn't have free rein to rummage through drawers and compartments. I didn’t know what I was looking for. Something, anything to connect him to the crime.
I didn’t find anything.
All his paperwork was in order, and he had the required items.
"Thanks for your cooperation," I said on the way out.
He mumbled something I didn't quite hear.
We stepped onto the aft deck, then crossed the passerelle to the dock.
"That kid’s nervous about something," Jack said as we walked back to the car. “Where the hell is he getting the kind of money that he can blow it on an online E girl?"
"Probably trading crypto.”
"The kid’s laundering money.”
“Has to be,” I said. “He's not a bad-looking guy. I'm sure he does well with the ladies. He doesn’t need to spend millions of dollars on fan sites.”
“Somebody puts money into a crypto account without KYC, moves it around, washes it through a privacy coin, sends it to him, then he sends it to Eden on the site,” Jack said.
“She gets a legitimate paycheck, skims off the top, then kicks the rest back to an offshore company for consulting or marketing expenses.”
"If I didn't know better, I’d think you knew what you were talking about."
He sneered at me. "Have Isabella dig into his finances and Eden’s.”
I sent Isabella a quick text message.
Brenda called a moment later. “I've got an update on Andrew Holt. Looks like the shark didn't kill him."
"What do you mean?”