“When was the last time you were at the hotel?” Jackson asked, wanting to push this along. O’Bannon might be buying this charming act that Aurora was projecting, but he wasn’t sold on it—he thought Aurora seemed to be stalling.
Why the man was stalling wasn’t clear yet, but Jackson intended to find that out as well.
“You mean physically?” Winston questioned.
Jackson looked at him, puzzled. “Is there any other way?”
“Well, there’s Skyping,” Winston answered. “But I closed down the hotel before we could implement that form of communication.”
“All right,” Jackson said, “when was the last time you were at the hotel in person or in spirit?”
Winston paused, thinking. And then he shrugged. “I’m afraid I really can’t remember an exact date. Why? Is it important?” The billionaire turned to direct his question toward Brianna, since she was obviously the friendlier of the two, in the man’s estimation.
“What my partner is attempting to do is establish a timeline, sir,” Brianna explained.
Winston furrowed his brow. “Why?” Not waiting for either of the two detectives to answer that, he continued, “Is there something wrong, Detectives? Don’t tell me that the construction company forgot to get all the right permits.”
Wanting to remain on the man’s good side, Brianna tactfully answered, “As far as we know, sir, all the permits are in place—”
“Then I’m afraid that I don’t understand the reason for all this,” the billionaire confessed, waving his hand at both of them. “Just why is it that you’re here?”
Brianna couldn’t quite decide if what she heard in Aurora’s voice was impatience or concern. For now, she let that go.
“When the wrecking ball hit the rear wall, a body was dislodged,” she told the man, wanting to proceed slowly.
“Several bodies,” Jackson interjected.
Winston looked from one detective to the other, appearing completely caught off guard and speechless. When he finally managed to collect himself, Winston could only echo in hushed disbelief, “Bodies? Whose?”
“That’s what we’re trying to ascertain, sir,” Brianna said.
Winston grew pale right before her eyes. “Do you have any idea who—who killed them?” he asked, his voice almost failing him.
“Another good question,” Jackson told him, his tone totally devoid of emotion.
Exasperated and momentarily losing his temper, Winston demanded, “Well, do you have any good answers, Detective?”
“Not yet,” Brianna answered quickly before Jackson could say something to further irritate Aurora. “But we’re doing our best.”
Responding to Brianna’s soothing voice, Winston seemed to calm down a little. He took in a deep breath, then slowly released it.
“I’m sorry, Detectives. I didn’t mean to fly off the handle like that,” he apologized. “But I find having bodies uncovered on my former property very upsetting and deeply disturbing.”
“We completely understand, Mr. Aurora—” Brianna began.
An almost shy smile quirked the man’s rather small mouth. “Winston,” he reminded her.
Brianna inclined her head obligingly.
“Winston,” she corrected herself. “We definitely have no desire to upset you. At the moment, we’d just like to establish a few basic things.”
Winston nodded a number of times as he listened to Brianna. “Yes, of course, I quite understand. What can I do to help?”
Jackson thought back to what he’d heard his temporary partner tell Del Campo. It was a good place to start.
“We need the hotel’s guest ledgers going as far back as possible, plus a list of all the hotel’s employees,” Jackson said.
Winston appeared mystified. “You do understand that the hotel is over half a century old.”
“We are aware of that, yes, sir,” Brianna answered.
The billionaire’s next question was unexpected and threw them. “How old are these bodies you say were uncovered?”
You say.
Brianna replayed the question in her head. She wasn’t sure if that was just a slip of the tongue on Aurora’s part, or if he was deliberately implying that the whole thing was merely trumped-up charges.
Jackson was obviously rubbing off on her, she thought.
“We won’t know that until our ME finishes doing the autopsies,” Brianna answered the man.
“If it would help move things along, I know several medical examiners in Sacramento,” Winston told them. “I could put in a call for you and get them down here by the end of the week, perhaps even sooner.”
“That’s very kind of you, sir, but the lab has already put out the word in the department. We have several medical examiners on call already. There’s no shortage of willing hands,” she assured the billionaire. “But thank you for the offer.”
Brianna didn’t want to risk offending the man or getting on his bad side. Most of all, she didn’t want him to think that they were looking at him as a possible suspect. Right now, that wasn’t the case—and it might never be, so they were playing it safe. If it turned out differently down the line, she didn’t want to put Winston on alert.
“Win, what on earth is going on here? Why is there a sedan parked in front of the house?”
A statuesque blonde, appearing to be between her late forties and early fifties, came into the library. Sharp green eyes took immediate measure of the two strangers in the room.
“Who are these people?” she asked, glaring at Jackson and Brianna as if they had just invaded her castle and tracked mud all over the highly polished floors.
“Gloria—” Winston, on his feet, extended his arm out toward his wife, indicating that he wanted her to come stand next to him “—I’d like you to say hello to these two fine young detectives.”
“Detectives,” Gloria Aurora repeated. “Police or private?” she asked in a tone that had icicles attached to it.
“We’re with the city’s police department, Mrs. Aurora,” Brianna told the woman, doing her best not to react to the judgmental tone.
The woman said nothing to either detective. Instead, she turned toward her husband and demanded, “What are they doing here?” When he didn’t answer her as quickly as she wanted, Gloria turned on the two people and questioned them herself. “Why are you here?”
Winston cleared his throat. It was obvious that he didn’t want his wife to create a scene, especially not in front of the detectives.
