she not know what you mean, Brittany?” super-blonde asked derisively. “You’re not exactly maintaining the mystery.”
“Sorry, I’m just proud. He’s the biggest fish I’ve bagged so far this month.”
“Haven’t gotten to Percy yet?” Jessie asked leadingly.
“Maybe someday,” Brittany said. “He’s definitely around a lot. But he’s usually got his boys with him. It’s hard to break through that testosterone bubble when they’re all together.”
“Are you looking to claim a trophy?” super-blonde asked Jessie pointedly. “Because there’s always someone available. But you’re probably going to have to up your wardrobe game. Show a little more skin. I know you’re older but you’ve got to put in the effort.”
“I’m thirty,” Jessie said.
“That’s okay,” super-blonde said. “Some of these guys like older women. But you’ve got to convince them that it’s worth their while.”
Out the corner of her eye Jessie saw Matilda, her guide from yesterday, walking toward the pool and decided it was time to pull up stakes.
“I’ll think about it,” she said, standing up and piling the towels back on her shoulder. “Maybe I’ll go change now. The only problem is that I’ve got some scars.”
“Where?” Brittany asked as she sat back up, way too intrigued.
Before either woman could reply, she scurried away, passing right by Matilda, who glanced her way distractedly, and seeing nothing but a heap of towels, returned her attention to whatever task she’d been assigned. As she hurried away, Jessie noticed Cord Mahoney sprawled out face down on a lounge chair, seemingly passed out. He must have found his second wind at some point. He was shirtless and his skin was bright red. Jessie was briefly tempted to bump into him to wake him up so he didn’t get even more burned. But she couldn’t take the risk of him seeing her so she kept moving.
Jessie didn’t look back until she’d rounded the corner. The back doors to South House were wide open. Realizing she might not have a better chance to get inside, she picked up the pace, hoping no one would notice her before she got in.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
She knew she looked suspicious.
Walking around inside with a bunch of pool towels on her shoulder would attract more attention than just trying pass as another guest. So she dumped them on an expensive-looking sideboard near the wall and veered immediately to the right, heading along the route she knew would take her to West House and the residential wing. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for but got the distinct impression whatever secrets needed uncovering would be discovered in the same part of the estate where Milly had died.
As she walked, she typed the names of the senator, actor, and Omar the Sultan into her phone so she wouldn’t forget. It sounded like they might not have even attended the party, but it was worth checking into.
It also made Jessie wonder what other titans of politics, entertainment, and industry used the Otis Estate as their personal boys’ club. And though she knew drawing too many conclusions was a risky proposition, the thought did occur to her that a sultan buddy of Otis’s from a foreign country might speak a different language, as Marla had mentioned. There was no evidence to support the connections she was making, but that had never stopped her before.
As Jessie rounded the corner and headed down the hall that connected South House and West House, a slight, bespectacled male staffer with intrusive eyes passed by, give her a twice-over. She knew even before she reached the door to the residential corridor that she was busted.
She pretended to be oblivious, pulling open the doors and walking confidently, even as she heard a staticky hiss, followed by the guy’s voice whispering into what she was sure was a walkie-talkie. The second she heard the doors close, she broke into a half-jog, bypassing the stairs that led to Otis’s private wing.
She was more curious about the residential wing at the end of the corridor. The plastic tarps that had been set up for the mold remediation were still in place but she couldn’t help wondering if there was a part of the residence that was still livable. Maybe a quick look around could reveal who’d stayed there recently.
She was almost to the end of the corridor when a booming voice called out from the other end.
“I wouldn’t go in there. Black mold can have some nasty side effects.”
Jessie stopped in her tracks and sighed. She recognized the voice. It