Page 132 of Sunset Beach
“Look, Neesa,” Drue chimed in. “Aren’t you tired of running? Look at it this way. It’s him or it’s you. I think you should talk to this detective.”
“I don’t give a shit what you think.” Neesa folded her arms defiantly across her chest.
“Okay,” Hernandez said. She whipped a set of handcuffs from her belt and snapped them over the girl’s wrists. “Neesa Vincent, you’re under arrest for murder and accessory to murder. Anything you say can be held against you in a court of law…”
“I never killed nobody,” Neesa protested.
Hernandez pulled Neesa to a standing position. “Let’s continue this at the police station.” She gave her a gentle push in the general direction of the front door.
“Don’t touch me,” Neesa hollered. She turned to Drue. “You saw her. She tried to knock me down. Put that camera back on again. I want this shit recorded.”
“Enough chitchat,” Hernandez said, putting her hand on the girl’s shoulder.
Drue followed the two women outside to where Hernandez had parked her Honda Odyssey across the street.
“Get in,” Hernandez said, opening the passenger door.
“What the hell kind of bougie police car is this?” Neesa said. “I bet you’re not even really a cop.”
“Shut up,” Hernandez said, taking a seat behind the steering wheel. She lifted a lock of Neesa’s hair and whistled softly. “Girlfriend, I don’t think this purple hair of yours is gonna look too good with that orange jumpsuit you’re gonna be wearing.”
“Hey!” Neesa twisted around in the seat and tried to point at Drue. “Hey. You owe me three hundred dollars. I want my damn money. You can’t just call me up and rip me off like this.”
“Send me a bill,” Drue said. She did a little finger wave as the van pulled away and then she ran inside to wash her hair.
Despite the fact that she was operating on too little sleep, Drue felt oddly energized by the encounter with Neesa. She washed her hair twice, but the front strand stayed stubbornly orange. Maybe she’d start a new fashion trend. Until then, she scrubbed the kitchen of the noxious peroxide odors, then sat down at the kitchen table again with a stack of index cards and made notes about what she’d learned earlier in the day.
She knew that it was Herman Byars who’d beaten and strangled Jazmin, and then enlisted Neesa to masquerade as the dead girl. But how had their scheme gone undetected for so long? Had the hotel’s head of security, Brian Shelnutt, conspired with Byars to hide their crime?
Drue thought back to the day that Yvonne Howington had appeared in the law firm’s reception area, insisting that Brice had taken a payoff from the hotel. She’d been more than ready, back then, to believe the worst of her father.
But last night, Brice had rushed to her aid after her arrest. And afterward, he’d sat down with her and Rae Hernandez as the two of them outlined how they believed Jazmin’s murder had occurred. He’d been skeptical at first, it was true, but he’d listened, and in the end, had agreed that Drue’s theory had merit.
Still, she couldn’t shake the notion that somebody had turned a blind eye to the sordid goings-on at the Gulf Vista, and probably made a nice fat profit from the deed.
She went into the guest bedroom and found the folder with the printouts she’d made of Jimmy Zee’s reports on his investigation.
He’d covered most of the bases with his interviews, she had to admit, but there was something missing. She’d seen, firsthand, how dogged Zee couldbe once he got his teeth into something. Neesa had said an investigator came to see her, but his report said he hadn’t been able to locate her. Which was a lie.
He was thorough and professional when he wanted to be. So what had happened with the Jazmin Mayes investigation? Why had it taken a rookie cube rat like her to figure out what a cesspool the Gulf Vista was?
She made some more notes on index cards, bringing them up to date. There were still plenty of loose ends, she knew. Herman Byars was still at large. And she hoped Rae Hernandez would follow up and question Brian Shelnutt about his role in the affair.
But she couldn’t help feeling jubilant. Neesa Vincent was not just involved in the murder, she was a credible witness. And Neesa’s testimony should prove that Herman Byars had killed Jazmin after her shift ended.
Now she had to persuade Brice to renew his efforts for a settlement with the hotel’s insurance company. And in the meantime, figure out whether Jimmy Zee had a financial incentive to look the other way when presented with evidence that could have cost the Gulf Vista millions.
And there were still so many unanswered questions about Brice and Jimmy Zee’s possible involvement in the forty-year-old disappearance of Colleen Boardman Hicks. Had Brice lied about his connection to the missing woman? Did Zee know more about the case than he’d admitted? Why had her mother collected all those old newspaper clippings about the case? And how had the long-missing police file ended up in a box of her father’s belongings right here in the attic of Coquina Cottage?
Drue paced around the kitchen, trying to make sense of things. Finally, she decided to reach out to the one person she thought could.
She called his number and was disappointed when the call went directly to voice mail.
“Hey Ben. Where were you when I needed you last night? Call me, okay? I have big news about the Jazmin Mayes case. There’s been an arrest. For real! And I really, really want to talk to you about Jimmy Zee. Okay, bye.”
Her cell phone rang five minutes later. It was Ben, and he sounded out of breath.
“Hi,” he said. “Sorry I couldn’t pick up. I’m actually at a gaming tournament, and we’re on a short break. What’s the big news?”
