There was one positive development. Maura the bartender was able to atleast partially confirm Rich Ferro’s alibi.
“I do remember him saying he’d take Phil up to his room because he wasa little wobbly. He asked me to hold his stool because he’d be back soon. Ipretended not to hear him because that was easier than telling a guest we can’tsave seats at the bar.”
“Who’s Phil?” Jessie asked.
“Last name is Baker? Blake?—something like that. It was his first timehere so I don’t remember it that well.”
“Do you recall when they went up or when Ferro came back down?” Jessieasked as she texted the name info to Peters, who was with Barksdale at thecheck-in desk.
Maura shook her head.
“Not definitively,” she said. “It was closer to eleven than to ten forsure. I don’t think he was gone that long because the barstool was still openwhen he got back. I remember he thanked me for holding it for him and I let himthink that I had.”
“Do you remember how he looked when he returned?”
“Looked?” Maura asked. “What do you mean?”
“Was he more disheveled than when he left? Sweaty, nervous, short ofbreath?”
“Not that I recall,” Maura said, “but I wasn’t paying close attention.I’ll tell you what. Let’s exchange numbers and if I remember something, I’llcall. Or you can reach out if you have more questions. Or we could just chat.”
She said that last line with an almost audible wink.
“Maura,” Jessie said, laughing at her brazenness. “I don’t know if thatboyfriend I told you about earlier would love your version of chatting with me.”
“What?” Maura replied, mock offended as she wrote her number on acocktail napkin. “It’s just two gals talking. No harm in that. Maybe I couldeven get you and your fella a discount if you wanted to come back for aweekend. I could show you the sights.”
This time she actually did wink. Jessie didn’t have a clever comebackbut was saved from needing one when Peters walked up.
“The ferry leaves in ten minutes,” he reminded her. “We better headover there.”
“I’m ready,” she said, tossing her backpack over her shoulder andhanding her card to Maura. “Thanks for the help.”
“Anytime,” Maura said as they left the bar, “literally!”
They got in a sheriff’s department golf cart and zipped down the roadin the direction of the dock.
“Philip Blake,” Peters said once they were out of earshot of anyone atthe hotel. “That’s apparently the guest Richard Ferro helped to his room.”
“Why is that name familiar to me?” Jessie asked.
“I looked him up on my phone. He’s on the LA County Board ofSupervisors. I found multiple articles saying he’s considering running formayor. He’s supposedly got a good shot.”
“Now I remember him,” she said. “He represents a pretty wealthydistrict.”
“I didn’t think that being gay was an obstacle to running for mayorover on the mainland, not like for us provincial local yokels,” Peters said,clearly trying to get her goat.
“It’s not,” she replied, refusing to take the bait. “But having anaffair with a man being questioned in a murder investigation would be acampaign killer anywhere, even in L.A.”
“So are we going to interview him?”
“We?” Jessie asked, taken aback.
“Yeah, we,” he said. “You didn’t think I was just going to bail on thisthing once everyone left town, did you? I’ve got a go bag at the station. We’llmake a quick pit stop there and be on our way.”
“Captain Hawley approved this?”
“I convinced him that it would actually make for good press if a memberof Avalon law enforcement played a role in apprehending the murderer. It showshow committed we are to keeping the island safe for visitors. In the meantime, DeputyHeck is going to do follow-up interviews with all the relevant hotel staff toreconfirm their alibis. He’ll let me know if anything pops.”
“That’s not bad work,” Jessie said admiringly as he pulled up at thestation.
“Be right back,” he said, hopping out.
While she waited, Jessie pondered Peters’s question about interviewingBlake. What she hadn’t mentioned to him was that the Board of Supervisors had aninfluential role in overseeing the L.A. County Sheriff’s Department. If theyquestioned Blake and it went badly, or if his supposed secret got out, theSupervisor might seek retribution against members of the tiny Avalondepartment. She didn’t want to be responsible for putting the detective’s jobat risk if she could avoid it.
Peters emerged from the station and dashed back to the cart. Behindhim, Jessie saw someone pull back a curtain in the window. It was CaptainHawley, scowling at her. He was clearly happy to see her go. The sight of himmade her think that maybe visiting the island with Ryan wasn’t such a bad idea.She wasn’t interested in Maura’s unsubtle personal offer, but it might be funfor them to hang out with her. And if they decided to drop in on the captain topay their respects, then that could be nasty fun too.
“We’re off,” Peters said, more excited than she seen him the whole time(admittedly only twelve hours) that she’d been here. She couldn’t help but givehim a bit of a hard time.
“You really had a go bag waiting in that station all this time, JasonBourne? Better wipe the dust off it.”
The sheepish look on his face gave her an unexpected burst of energy.
*
It didn’t last long.
Once the ferry pulled out and began to rock on the large winter waves, Jessiefound her eyes drooping involuntarily. Peters had agreed to stay in the cargohold to help the CSU folks ensure the security of Gabby Crewe’s body, so shesat alone in a corner of the boat, as far from the gang of swingers as shecould get. Without any definitive evidence against them and reluctant to talkto them now that lawyers were involved, she thought it best to steer clear ofthem entirely.
Before she drifted off, she texted both Ryan and Hannah to let themknow she was headed back and ask how they were doing. Hannah’s response wasshort and to the point: Doing fine.
