Michael was on his phone as he followed Brian out of the conference room. When he was out of earshot, Jim said to Ryder, “See what I mean?”
“It’s hard on all of us,” Ryder said. “He’s processing differently.”
“He’s going to implode if he doesn’t acknowledge that he’s worried. I’m going to talk to Sloane. She’s good at getting Michael to open up.”
He pulled out his phone and started texting, and Ryder went back to the security videos.
He had to find something—a face, a vehicle, anything that could pinpoint Garrett Reid’s partner.
Time was running out.
10
Michael texted the head of the ERT in Jacksonville with the request to shadow Jim Esteban as Brian escorted him down the hall. “You can use my office for the interviews,” Brian said. “Do you want to talk to anyone specifically first?”
“Room service, housekeeping, head of Maintenance, then whoever worked at the gym when Matt and Kara were there.”
Brian jotted down a list. “Feel free to use my desk.” He motioned to his chair, then stepped out.
Michael’s first interview was with Jill Quiroz, a no-nonsense round woman in her late fifties with graying black hair and deep wrinkles around her eyes. She’d worked at the resort for twelve years. Michael had spoken to her on Friday when they arrested Garrett since she had also been on duty then. “I personally watched the chef prepare Mr. Costa and Ms. Quinn’s breakfast,” she said. “No one was poisoned on my watch.”
“No, ma’am. We don’t believe the food was poisoned,” Michael said. The dart they had collected had indicated they’d beentranquilized, but he wasn’t going to share that information with staff, not until they had a full analysis of the room.
“It wasn’t,” she said firmly. “I know the chef, he’s a good man. And the food did not leave my sight from the minute I domed the plates until I personally delivered the cart.”
She was angry, and Michael wasn’t certain whether she was angry with him for asking questions or at the situation.
“You are now aware that Costa and Quinn are law enforcement?” Michael confirmed.
“Yes. That was made clear to me on Friday. I spoke to you and Agent Costa, remember?”
“Of course,” Michael said with a small smile, even though his stomach was tight and in pain. The interviews were necessary, but he wanted to be out doing something...more...to find Matt and Kara.
He asked, “Yesterday, when did the call come in for room service?”
“It’s in the log,” she said.
“I want to confirm that it’s accurate.”
“11:10 a.m. Orange juice, champagne, blueberry pancakes, a protein omelet, and two sides of bacon. I delivered the cart at 11:35, maybe a minute or two after. I made certain the cart was never out of my view.”
“Who answered the door?”
“Mr. Costa. They were sitting outside on the patio and I offered to set it up, he said he would take the cart, and then he tipped me.”
“And his mood? Did he seem nervous, agitated, happy?”
“Relaxed,” she said, “Friendly, polite. He’s been polite his entire stay.”
“Did you see Detective Quinn when you delivered the tray?”
“Yes. She was sitting in the sun on the patio drinking coffee, which appeared to have been made in the suite. It was in one of the blue mugs that we have in the room for guests.”
“And their demeanor? Did either of them seem concerned or worried or preoccupied?”
“No, as I said, they were relaxed. They were—well, Mr. Costa seemed very happy. He did mention to me that he had won at racquetball and Ms. Quinn said something like he cheated. He winked at me and said, ‘I never cheat.’ He’s very charming,” she added with a smile.
Michael didn’t know if he would call Matt charming, but he could see why an older woman might.
