of…getting to know their fans. They did take two longer breaks, both about ten minutes. One was from one forty-seven a.m. to one fifty-eight a.m. The other was from two fifty-two a.m. to three oh-four a.m. In both cases, Avalon is off camera. That second break is technically within the window of death for Ms. Estrada.”
“But…” Jessie said, leadingly, already sensing where he was going with this.
“But,” he said, “the chances that Avalon could have stopped singing, gone all the way to Otis’s private residence in West House, had some encounter with Ms. Estrada in which he removed her top and killed her, all before getting back to resume the set at three oh-four, are, to say the least, remote.”
“There’s more,” Karen said. “Show her the footage when they picked back up at three oh-four a.m.”
Jamil hit a button, and a time-stamped image of Percy sitting down on a stone bench began to play. The guy immediately made a crack about his aging bladder. He looked relaxed and untroubled. There was none of the anxiety or nervousness one might expect of a man who had just rushed back from breaking a woman’s neck only minutes earlier halfway across the property.
Jessie had met people who were cold enough to react that way after committing murder, but not many. Plus he didn’t look winded. She had to admit that while not a technical impossibility, the likelihood that Percy was Milly’s killer seemed remote.
“What about Davey?” she asked.
“Ah, now that’s another story,” Jamil said, pulling up a new series of clips and walking her through them. “I used facial recognition from every social media video I could find to track his whereabouts. He’s hanging out with the rest of the band and the entourage regularly until around one forty-five a.m.”
Jessie pointed to a few of the images.
“It looks as if he’s drinking in almost every clip you have of him,” she noted.
“What’s the significance of that?” Jamil asked.
“He claims he passed out at some point and woke up near the petting zoo.”
“That’s certainly possible,” Jamil conceded. “Here’s the last definitive image I have of him, in the corner of the screen while the band is playing at one forty-four a.m. You can see him get up and head off toward the west. He’s stumbling and looking generally unsteady. After that, he completely disappears until we see him getting in the limo with the band as they leave the estate.”
Jessie looked over at Karen, who was doing an impressive job of hiding her “I told you so” face.
“Did they put the ankle monitor on him yet?” she asked.
“Yep,” Karen said, “about an hour ago. Even so, you know this means there’s probably no way we can avoid picking him up.”
“I know it doesn’t look good,” Jessie conceded. “But this could either sink him or reinforce his claim that he passed out. Either way, you promised we’d wait until tomorrow. You’re not breaking your word, are you, Detective Bray?”
She said it with a playful lilt in her voice, but both of them knew this was a crucial moment for their current partnership and any future one. Jessie had to know where the woman’s loyalties lay.
“I made a promise,” Karen said. “I keep my promises. But remember you made one too. If we don’t have somebody else in our sights by lunchtime tomorrow, we’re taking him in, right?”
“Right,” Jessie said reluctantly. “Then I guess we better find our guy, or girl for that matter. Jamil—any luck locking down Nancy Salter’s whereabouts?”
He shook his head.
“I’ve been focused on this. That was next, along with trying to nail down how many senators, Oscar winners, and sultans were there. Any priority preference?”
Jessie thought about it.
“Let’s start with Salter,” she said. “That shouldn’t take as long. Either we can lock in her movements or we can’t. I have a feeling the others are going to require more bureaucratic hoop-jumping so let’s hold off on those. Also, when you get a minute, I need you to check security footage from Beto Estrada’s cottage this morning. Let me know if you see anything unusual after he left for work.”
“Is that all?” Jamil asked, looking slightly exasperated.
“For now,” she replied without pity. They all had major workloads. He’d get by. “Now if you both will excuse me for a few, I have to check in on another matter. Text if you need me.”
“Is this check-in part of the whole ‘can’t tell me for my own safety’ thing?” Karen asked.