Page 54 of Sunset Beach
She took out her phone and snapped a few quick shots of the room, zooming in on the area where a wall-mounted camera might have been, and then pulled the door open again.
“God,” Corey breathed, when they were well away. “It must have been a hundred and ten degrees in there. How do the housekeepers stand working in there without air-conditioning?”
Drue turned to look at him. “Good point. If I were in there doing laundry, where there’s no air-conditioning? I’d leave the door open, to at least get some fresh air. Maybe Jazmin left it open that night, and that’s how her attacker got in.”
“If that’s so, the killer could have been anybody,” Corey said. “Even a guest.”
As they were walking away they heard a rumble of wheels on the concrete walkway. A housekeeper in a white uniform smock was trundling a huge canvas laundry cart toward them, her body nearly dwarfed by the piles of rumpled linens.
“Busted,” Corey whispered. “Almost.”
But Drue wasn’t listening. She was walking toward the housekeeper, a friendly smile pasted on her face. When she got close enough to speak, she noticed the housekeeper’s name tag. LUTRISHA.Wasn’t that the name of one of the employees Zee had interviewed?
“Excuse me,” Drue said. “Could I speak to you for a couple minutes?”
The woman was young, in her mid-twenties, Drue guessed, with short reddish-purple hair and sallow skin ravished with angry red acne.
“What about?” she said, instantly wary.
“Weren’t you working here when Jazmin Mayes, one of the other housekeepers, was killed a couple years ago?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you know Jazmin?”
“Not that well,” Lutrisha said. She paused. “I was the one who found her body.”
“Ohhh. Right.” That was why her name had struck a chord, Drue thought. “But I thought you left and took a job someplace else. Publix?”
“How do you know so much?” Lustrisha asked.
“I work for the law firm that Jazmin’s mother hired after she was killed,” Drue said. “I think you talked to our investigator not long after it happened.”
“I can’t talk to you,” Lutrisha said, glancing around. “I gotta get back to work.”
“What time do you get off?”
“Not for another hour.”
“Could I meet you somewhere, so we could talk? I just live a few blocks away.”
“I can’t get involved,” the girl said. “I’m sorry for her kid and all, but this has got nothing to do with me.” She started to push the cart away, but Drue stayed right beside her.
“You know, they still haven’t caught Jazmin’s killer.”
“Yeah, so I heard.”
“Did you know that Jazmin’s mother is raising her daughter? Yvonne only got a settlement of one hundred thirty-five thousand dollars, because the hotel claimed Jazmin was working when she was killed. And all the money is tied up in a trust for Aliyah, so it can’t be touched ’til she’s eighteen.”
The girl stopped in front of the laundry room doors, fumbling for her key card, which she wore on a cord around her wrist. “That’s all?” She looked shocked.
“Aliyah has severe asthma,” Drue said, unabashedly laying it on thick. “Her medical bills are horrendous.”
Lutrisha had the key card poised to swipe. She sighed. “Where do you want to meet? I can’t take long. I been working all day and I’m beat.”
“How about that coffee shop on Gulf Boulevard? Right next to the Thunderbird?” Drue asked. “At eight-thirty?”
The girl nodded. “I’ll be there.”
