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“Also,” she said, in an effort to help her case, “the kidnappers placed a bomb in my vehicle.”
“I heard something about that,” Rudy said. “I also heard a rumor you’ve moved into Wentworth’s mansion. Is that true?”
Kelly nodded, suspecting his source was Patrice. But her situation was no secret. “Yes, sir. Until they can get the kid straightened out.”
“How long is that going to take?”
“No way to know, sir.”
“Living on Collins Island with nothing but billionaires could be a big distraction for a rookie.”
“I won’t let it distract me, sir.”
“You’re off duty tomorrow and Friday, right?”
“Yes, sir. Unless you want me to come in and make up time.”
“No. I want you to take the days to get your head together.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rudy tore the paper once, twice and dropped the ragged pieces into his wastebasket.
“Okay, Jenkins. I’ll let your attendance issues slide for now, but consider yourself as having received a verbal warning. From now on, you need to be on time and complete your shifts.”
“I understand, sir,” Kelly said.
“You’d better, because I’ll be watching you.”
* * *
WHEN TREY’S LIMO rolled off the ferry, Kelly leaned forward and tapped on the window separating her from Hans.
“Yes?” A disembodied voice sounded over the intercom.
“Pull over,” she said. “I want to talk to the guards.”
Kelly exited the vehicle and walked toward the guard shack. A uniformed male, in his late twenties and Hispanic, watched her approach warily, no doubt surprised to see a uniformed policewoman emerge from a resident’s luxury limousine.
She’d first thought to jog over to speak to a guard on her morning run, but realized she’d get more cooperation if she were in uniform.
“Can I help you, Officer?” the guard asked. His badge read Carlos.
Kelly shook his hand. Carlos sounded friendly enough.
“Officer Kelly Jenkins. I’d like to ask you some questions.”
“You’re the policewoman who saved the Wentworth kid, aren’t you?” he asked. “We heard you were staying at the villa.”
“It’s only temporary,” she said. “Believe me.”
“You’ve become a legend around here,” Carlos said with a grin. “What do you need?”
Kelly motioned toward the ferry landing. “I’m assisting the FBI with their investigation and want to understand how your security works.”
“Sure.”
“A visitor can only board the ferry with prior clearance from a resident, right?”
“Absolutely, either on foot or with a vehicle, and they have to present valid ID.”
“So you always know what a visitor’s destination is?”
“Right.”
“Do you follow a visitor to make sure they actually go to that resident’s home?”
“Well, we always ask if they know where they’re going. If they don’t, we offer to lead them on one of our golf carts.”
“So you wouldn’t know if a visitor didn’t actually go where they say they’re going?”
Carlos frowned. “I guess that’s true.”
Kelly nodded. “What about on the return trip? Do you ID then?”
“Why would we? Any visitor has already been cleared.”
“Makes sense,” Kelly said, gazing at the ferry.
“However,” Carlos added, “we do check any bags carried by domestic workers who walk on the ferry to make sure they haven’t stolen anything.”
Kelly resisted the urge to roll her eyes. How insulting that must be for the workers.
“Are the guards employees of the island or a homeowners’ association?”
“We all work for the Protection Alliance.”
Carlos announced the name of his employer with a sense of pride.
“That’s a private security firm, right?” Kelly asked.
“Right,” Carlos said. “You’re trying to figure out how the kidnappers got on the island. Aren’t you?”
Kelly nodded. “Who from Wentworth Villa can give permission for a guest to board?”
