Mel shook her head, confused. “I’m not seeing the connection.”
With a grin, Paul said, “Oh, you’re going to have to wait for it. It’s there, but it’s weird.”
She slapped the papers against her leg and said, “You are the worst story teller ever.”
“Okay, okay. So, there’s lots going on after two Cat 5 hurricanes and one body can get shuffled off to the side, but the file still landed on someone’s desk. This detective that contacted me said he didn’t even get to it until nearly Christmas. The guy had his wallet, so they ID’ed him and informed the family and that was that. No urgency. But it was an unattended death and it was a non-local, so he looked into it just to close the file properly.
“Turns out, Mr. Smith was from Florida. Wealthy, retired young, quiet life…that kind of guy. Not married. Liked to golf and was a patron of the arts. Apparently, he had quite the collection. Siblings said he’d always had problems with depression, so most people assumed it was a suicide. With me so far?”
“Yeah. A suicide that has nothing to do with our case. I’m still not seeing the connection.”
“Here’s the thing. Mr. Smith made three trips a year. One to the Outer Banks, one to our fair city, and one to Northern Virginia. Every single year. Had been doing it for at least a decade. Always around the same time for each trip. Each trip lasted no more than a day. The detective traced his last trip and found our dead guy didn’t even have a hotel. He flew up and got a rental car and that was that. The rental car was retrieved by the company on a pinger when he didn’t bring it back, but they didn’t report it.”
“So?”
“So, that’s weird. The detective thought it was weird too, and checked some previous trips. Always the same. No hotel. Rental car with lots of miles logged, then left someplace for about twelve hours, then return to the airport and back home again. Every single trip.”
Mel leaned forward, understanding the connections now. “You think he was visiting the RV brothel.” When Paul nodded, she asked, “But how did your detective connect it to our alert?”
“Bingo,” Paul said with a grin. “The detective I spoke with is a good one, and he got all kinds of weird vibes off this case. He thought maybe this guy was involved in the drug trade or something. He got the rental car records and went to the location the car was left. Parking lot for public beach access, except the beach was closed. Cameras were destroyed during the hurricane, so no records there. The only things anywhere near that car were a strip of overpriced motels too far back from the beach to be great, but close enough to be worth it.”
“No RV parks?” Mel interrupted.
“No, but remember, there was a Cat 5 hurricane. Everything was closed or damaged or entirely gone. No tourists there during that time. Detective called a couple of local owners and asked about the dead guy, wondering if there might be a connection to one of the hotels. He got pointed in the direction of a security company that serviced all the hotels on that strip. It was the only local one, so it was an easy match. And this is where it gets interesting for us.”
“Okay,” Mel said, waving her hand for Paul to get on with it.
“Security company was real tight lipped about things, but the detective tracked the man on duty the day our dead guy came to town and guess what he found out?”
“I’m going to smack you if you don’t hurry up, Paul.”
“Hold your horses, Mel, I gotta enjoy it when I have something like this.”
The look she gave him made it clear she had no horses to hold.
“Fine. Be that way. Anyway, long story less long, the security guy got fired not long after this, and he thought it was connected, so he was willing to talk. After the hurricane, everything was closed and a lot of places still standing were a mess. They had problems with squatters and illegal rentals though. Most of the places were ordered closed by the Health Department because of mold, or condemned due to structural damage. He was busy and he wasn’t surprised to find a bunch of RVs parked at one of the closed hotels.”
“RVs,” Mel whispered.
“Yep, RVs. At the time, he didn’t think anything of it because so many locals had been displaced. They were coming back with RVs and living in FEMA trailers in their yards and all kinds of shit, so he was just going to make sure it was okay with the owner and leave it there. Looked like a bunch of families to him at first. Kids hurried into the RVs when he rolled in.
“When he got out of the car, a guy walked out of one of the rooms. The hotel was closed, so now he wondered if he had a break in. He said the guy had wet hair and smelled like soap, like he just got out of a shower. And the guard saw the room when the door opened. It was made up, complete with bedspreads on the beds. He knew that wasn’t right at all. When he asked for some explanation, the guy just tells him to call the owner because it’s okay for them to be there.”
Mel put up a finger to stop the flow of words and asked, “Did he get an ID?”
Paul made a face, then said,
