downtown, where we’ll resume this discussion. After that, you’ll spend the night in a cell with the guys we routinely pick up for public urination. That’s where you’ll sleep off your hangover, assuming you get any sleep. It’s your call and you have five seconds to make it.”
Randy smiled back at her, apparently impressed. But she saw a sliver of apprehension behind his eyes and knew that the answers she wanted would be forthcoming.
“I saw the girl,” he admitted sullenly.
“When?”
“About ten minutes before you and Detective Hernandez stopped by. She was wearing a hoodie, thinking she was being sly, and had on a small backpack, but I recognized her. Like I said, Carl wasn’t fooling anyone. She had her own key and she used it to enter the house via the side door.”
“What else?”
“I saw Carl drive by while we were talking, headed to his place. He couldn’t have been in the house for more than two minutes before he came running out. So if you’re looking at him for this, you might reconsider. I doubt he had time to do much of anything in there.”
“Is that it?” Jessie pressed.
“That’s it. You still gonna drag me downtown?”
Jessie was tempted, just to see how he’d handle it. But she relented.
“You’re good for now. But if I have more questions, I expect you to give me answers without attitude.”
“Yes ma’am,” he barked, saluting.
“Where were you by the way, Randy?”
“When?”
“In the time between when you saw the girl go in the house and when we showed up?”
Randy tried to scowl at her but his facial muscles were too tequila-loose to get the job done.
“Are you asking for my alibi? I’m an old drunk in sandals, Jessie.”
“Where were you?” she asked in a tone that suggested he was in danger of returning to backtalk territory.
“I was right here,” he said. “I haven’t moved in an hour and don’t intend to move again until this mug is empty.”
She was inclined to believe him, though she gave his feet a quick glance before leaving. There was nothing resembling blood on them. And the timeline didn’t fit anyway. Randy couldn’t have killed Kelly, gotten back to his porch, then thrown on an all-black outfit, survived a fight with Ryan, and returned to his porch. It was ridiculous.
But as she walked back to the Landingham mansion, something about that thought reverberated in her mind. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it but she knew it would make sense when she got back to the house.
Without even thinking about it, she broke into a run.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The coroner was removing the body as Jessie led the small group up the stairs.
She was first, followed by a uniformed officer, Carl Landingham, Ryan, and a second officer. She marched down to the master bedroom and walked in. It was just as she’d left it. As she looked around, the fuzzy thought that had been dancing in the back of her brain stepped forward. She waited until everyone else had filed in to begin.
“Mr. Landingham,” she began, using his last name to reestablish some sense of formality now that he’d calmed down a bit. “You said that you’ve been out of town since last week, correct?’
“Yes,” he said. “My wife and I left last Thursday. I came back this afternoon. She’s supposed to return on Sunday.”
“Today is Wednesday,” Jessie noted. “Other than Kelly Martindale, have you allowed anyone else access to your home while you were gone?”
“No.”
“Did you come upstairs when you got home today,” she pressed. “Perhaps to change?”
“No. Like I told you earlier, I got home and saw Kelly right away when I got to the stairs. I ran out of the house immediately. This is the first time I’ve been upstairs since I got back.”
So far everything he’d told her comported with the theory that was forming quickly in her head. She pressed on.
“When you left last week, did you go in a rush? Not have time to make the bed or take dishes downstairs?”
“No,” he answered, glancing at the unmade bed. “Eileen is very particular. She would never leave an unmade bed or a dirty dish. Everything has to be just so. She’s always complaining that our maids don’t do as good a job as she does.”
“So she wouldn’t have left it like that?” Jessie said, pointing at the bed.
“No way.”
“Are these yours?” she asked, looking at the clothes folded on the dresser and the sneakers on the floor in front of it.
Carl walked over to get a