Chapter 32
First responders arrived, and deputies secured the area. I identified myself as a police officer and told them we were here on a welfare check. It was the simplest explanation at the time.
The crime scene photographer snapped photos, and forensic investigators went to work. The local medical examiner evaluated the body.
I stepped aside and called the sheriff.
He groaned when I told him the details. “For crissakes, Wild. You two are breaking every rule in the book.”
“Not every rule.”
“You’re telling me Riley Dalton has been kidnapped. Her brother has a few hours to come up with essentially $140 million worth of stolen property that he supposedly did not take but somehow seems to know exactly where it is.”
“Not exactly. We haven’t found it yet.”
“And in doing all this, you stumbled across one of Shane’s dead co-conspirators. Does that pretty much sum it up?”
“That’s an accurate assessment.”
“And what’s your plan now?”
“I think Garrett was celebrating his ill-gotten gains. He called an escort, bragged about his newfound riches, and she decided to roll him.”
“Do you know where this escort is now?”
“We’re going to do a knock and talk and see what turns up.”
“You’re walking a fine line, Wild.”
“I can keep you in the loop, or I can keep you out of it for plausible deniability.”
He scoffed. “I want to know what you two numbskulls are doing every step of the way. Keep me in the loop. I’ll decide what I need to forget.”
I told him we’d be in touch and ended the call.
We left the bungalow and walked the path back to the main office. At the front desk, I flashed my badge and said, "I need to see security footage.”
The guy behind the counter was in his mid-20s with shaggy dark hair, a narrow face, and dark eyes. "We've only got one camera on the entrance to the building in case somebody robs us.”
"Does that happen often?”
"We don't keep a lot of cash around. Most people pay by credit card. But we do have a number of cash clients.”
I’m sure there were plenty of people looking for romantic getaways that didn't want the charge to end up on their billing statement. Wouldn't want to have to explain something like that to their spouse.
He tapped the keys on the terminal and brought up the camera feed. "You can come around the counter, if you want?”
We did.
"What are you looking for?”
"The guy in bungalow six... Did he have a visitor?”
The clerk shrugged. "How would I know?"
I told him to scrub back through the timeline. The camera angle recorded cars pulling under the carport and people stepping into the lobby. The frame caught the entrance to the path that led to the cabanas as well.
We watched people come and go in reverse.
About four hours prior, a sultry woman in a tight black cocktail dress that hugged her breathtaking form sauntered across the parking lot and down the path.
She wore spike-heeled shoes and carried a black handbag with gold accents.
From this camera angle, it was hard to see her face, obscured by long raven hair. Sunglasses concealed her eyes.
A woman like that in the middle of the day stood out.
I shared a look with Jack and told the clerk to export the footage. I gave him a card, and he sent it to my phone.
After thanking him for his cooperation, we left the office and hurried back to the Porsche. JD fired up the engine, and we set out to find Brandi Maddox.