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Ryan looked at Jessie.
“Let’s stay focused on the people who were at the fundraiser here at the hotel for now,” she suggested. “We can always reach out to the others after we’re done.”
Ryan nodded.
“Just sit tight for now, guys,” he said. “We’ll get back to you in a bit.”
After they hung up, they invited in the next waiting employee who had worked the fundraiser last night. Jessie looked at the guy—young, skinny, and scared, with red, curly hair that was even more flyaway than Rhett Kirby’s had been—and her heart sank.
The kid didn't look a day over twenty, and his eyes were bouncing around wildly in his skull. Just the sight of it made the lingering headache near her temples flare up. Ryan motioned for him to sit down opposite them at the small office desk. He did so quickly, almost falling out of his chair.
“You’re Killian McBride?” Ryan confirmed.
"Yes, sir," McBride said, nodding vigorously.
“You were working the fundraiser last night as a server?” Ryan asked, looking at his notes.
"Yes, I was walking around all night with app trays. I got off at two in the morning, so I'm sorry if I'm a little out of it," he said apologetically.
“That’s okay,” Jessie said, trying to calm the kid down. “Is it okay if I call you Killian?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he told her.
“You’re not in trouble, Killian,” she promised him. “We’re just looking for some information.”
“Okay,” Killian said, still jumpy.
“Do you recognize this woman?” Jessie asked, holding out a photo of Gabriella Silva on her phone.
He nodded.
“I don’t know her name, but I remember her,” he said.
“There were over a hundred guests at that event,” Ryan noted. “Why did she stick out to you?”
“It wasn’t so much her, sir,” Killian said, “but who she interacted with.”
“What do you mean?” Jessie asked.
“Well, all of us servers were told to pay special attention to the requests of the event organizers, to keep them satisfied at all times,” he explained. “One of them was this lady named Mrs. Cressey. I forget her first name right now. Sorry about that.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jessie told him. “Keep going.”
“Okay,” Killian said. “I saw that Mrs. Cressey’s glass was nearly empty, so I came up behind her to offer her another drink. She was finishing up a conversation with the woman in the picture. I only heard the end of it. The other woman said something like ‘I’m getting exactly what I deserve’ and walked off. Mrs. Cressey muttered something like—and I’m sorry for my language but it’s what she said: ‘I’ll give you what you deserve, bitch!’ I kind of grunted in surprise. She turned around, asked what the hell I wanted. I told her I was checking to see if she needed another drink. She said yes and ordered two. I brought them to her but after that I steered clear of her.”
“Did you see the other woman again at any point during the evening?” Jessie asked.
"I don't think so," Killian said. "I feel like it would have registered with me if I had because of the drama and stuff."
“Okay, thanks very much, Killian,” Ryan said. “We’ll be in touch if we need anything else.”
Killian nodded, popped up, and nearly sprinted out the room.
“So that’s something,” Ryan said once the kid left.
“How many more employees do we have left to interview?” Jessie asked.
“According to this list, four,” he told her.
