“Why else would Hackett have a key to this room? Females are great lures.”
Holden said, “One of the housekeeping staff said she saw Rosemont and a woman on the beach earlier yesterday, but she couldn’t provide a description, only a blond Caucasian.” His phone beeped and he excused himself.
Megan looked at the two body bags, then at the door. “Did Rosemont shoot Hackett or was it Rosemont’s partner?” she asked, almost to herself. “What I don’t get is why such a public place. The general must have caused a raucous when he was hamstrung. He wasn’t gagged, correct?”
“No.”
Hans said, “Test his blood for all barbiturates. If he was drugged before he came in, he may not have been able to call for help.”
“And the killer escaped through the back door,” Megan said as she crossed over to the sliding glass doors. The beach spread out in front of her, the ocean rolling up only a hundred feet beyond.
“Look here.” Clark led them to the door. “See those prints?”
“Prints?”
“Shoe impressions.”
Megan squatted and looked carefully at a triangle pattern. “These are shoes?”
“High heels. There are no identifying marks, but we can see the impression of the spikes in a couple places- mostly by the main door. I think the killer tried to run on her toes and not put the spike part of the heel down, but sometimes she couldn’t avoid it.”
“You think the killer is a woman.”
“I think the killer is very likely a woman,” Clark said. “Hackett had lipstick on his face and neck.”
“And she ran across the beach?” Megan looked out. Crime scene tape divided the beach in half.
“Yes, south. But we were only able to track her footfalls for about thirty feet before they became too integrated with the other prints.”
“Heels in the sand?”
“No, she took her shoes off. Come here.” He opened the door and they walked to the small patio that fronted the sand. “No prints, so she probably had gloves on-”
“Wait,” Megan said. “If this is the same woman Hackett was getting cozy with in the bar, how could he have not noticed she was wearing gloves?”
“Maybe she drugged him,” Hans suggested. “Or used a towel or cloth to touch anything.”
“Regardless, she didn’t leave prints, but there is blood on the back of this chair, and a few droplets of blood that has me thinking she stood in the sand, took off the heels, and carried them with her. We’re scouring the garbage cans and beach between here and the pier, and so far nothing. No shoes, no knife, no evidence.”
Holden came out to the patio. “The bartender who served Hackett and the woman last night is here.”
“Let’s talk to him,” Hans said. “Do you have a sketch artist available?”
“Already on site,” Holden said. “We also have a witness. He sounds legit, swears that he saw Rosemont at a diner outside Blythe yesterday morning. He and his family are in San Luis Obispo and I was going to send an officer up there for a formal statement, but maybe one of you would like to go?”
“Agent Elliott will accompany your officer,” Hans said.
Before Megan could protest, Holden said, “Terrific. I’ll call Officer Dodge and have her swing by and pick you up. It’s only an hour and a half away. You’ll be back before dinner.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Jack couldn’t find Megan anywhere in the hotel. He was about to try her cell phone again when he saw Hans Vigo walk into the main lobby with the same plain-clothes cop who had picked Hans and Megan up at the airport earlier that morning.
“Where’s Megan?” Jack asked as Hans approached.
Jack had been worried about Megan, unable to reach her, her cell phone busy or going directly to voice mail.
Hans Vigo looked at Jack oddly, then walked past him and said, “She’s on her way to interview a potential witness.”
“Witness? Who?”
“A family. They saw Rosemont in a diner only a few miles from where the Hoffmans were killed. They said a woman was with him. It’s a solid lead, so I sent her to follow it.”
Jack glanced at Holden. He didn’t need to say anything, but the cop understood and excused himself with a vague comment about checking on the canvass for witnesses.
“Where did she go?” Jack asked.
“San Luis Obispo. It’s an hour or two north.”
“On her own?”
“With an SBPD uniformed officer. What’s the problem, Jack? I didn’t realize I had to clear my orders with you.”
The tension wasn’t lost on Jack. “What does that mean, Vigo?”
“I don’t have to explain myself.”
“Right. Because you’re the senior agent.”
The federal agent’s face hardened. “What do you care? Your friend’s killer is dead. You can go back to Hidalgo and fight somebody else’s wars for them. I’m sure you’re in demand.”
“And I don’t have to explain myself to you.” Why hadn’t Megan called him? Jack pushed the thought aside. She was doing her job. He’d have liked to have known she was leaving town for the day, but she’d be back in a few hours. Still, Hans Vigo’s animosity was palatable. What was his problem? Did he know that Jack had slept with Megan? Was it possible that this agent, who was almost old enough to be Megan’s father, was jealous? Or was it something else? Jack didn’t know Vigo well enough to decide, though Megan had said he’d been acting unlike himself recently.
“You can wait for her in-”
“No,” Jack interrupted. “There’s still a killer on the loose. What’s going on with the search for Rosemont’s partner?”
“You’re not a cop, Jack.”
“You can’t just use me when it’s convenient.” Jack turned to leave, not wanting any more of a confrontation. He would keep trying Megan, to confirm she was safe, then he’d follow up with Padre and see what was taking him so long with the police artist. They needed something to go on, and right now Jack hated not having anything to do. The waiting would kill him.
Vigo asked quietly, “What’s your interest in Agent Elliott, Jack?”
Slowly, Jack faced Vigo and assessed him. He couldn’t tell if the question was because Vigo was jealous or protective. Or both.
He simply said, “I like her.”
Vigo relaxed and nodded. “I’m about to interview the bartender who served Hackett and the woman. You can join me if you like.”
Megan got the call from the Orlando field office ten minutes before reaching the San Luis Obispo city limits.
“Agent Elliott, this is ASAC Todd Zarian. Assistant Director Stockton asked me to contact you regarding the Ken Russo homicide.”
“Thank you. Stockton explained the situation?”
“Yes. We spoke to the local detective in charge and he opened up the files to us. I have them here in my office. Looks pretty open and shut to me. Guy comes home and surprises a burglar.”
“Do you know what was taken?”
“Nothing big-television and stereo were still there. But according to friends and neighbors, a high-end camera was missing; the guy had receipts for an iPod and some other small electronics that were never found. Possibly
