Page 2 of Wild Idol
“Any video surveillance in the club or the alley?” I asked, looking around for cameras.
Todd shook his head.
I dug into my pocket and handed him a card. “If anything should come to mind.”
He took the card, looked it over, then slipped it into his pocket.
By that time, Paris Delaney and her news crew were on the scene. The cameraman lensed up the dumpster as Brenda and her crew transferred the remains. The body was bagged and put atop a gurney, then rolled out of the alley. Brenda and her crew loaded the body into the medical examiner’s van.
It was good to see Paris out of the hospital and back in action. She didn’t waste any time inserting herself into the chaos. “Deputy Wild, do you have an ID on the victim?”
“Not at this time.” I spoke into the lens and made a plea for witnesses to come forward, hoping somebody had seen something.
JD and I canvassed the area, but nobody claimed to have seen anything.
After we wrapped up at the scene, JD and I returned to the station and filled out after-action reports. I had Denise cross-reference the database for any missing persons reports but nothing matched the decedent.
“Somebody’s going to miss a girl like that,” I said.
“Unless she’s a runaway or from out of town,” Denise replied.
I frowned. There were plenty of those.
The island was a popular destination for dreamers of all types. It was a place where you could escape and reinvent yourself. A place where you could be anything you wanted to be. The weather was damn near perfect all year round. There were plenty of ways to make money on the island. Of course, everything was expensive. It wasn’t exactly Hollywood,but we had our fair share of celebrities. Plenty of second homes for the rich and famous.
I sent Isabella the victim’s picture and asked her to run it through facial recognition software. If anybody could ID this girl quickly, it was Isabella. As the head of one of the largest clandestine agencies, she had a vast amount of resources.
“How do you think she got into the dumpster?” JD asked.
I had plenty of theories brewing. I’m sure he did, too. I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions at this point. But something told me she had gotten in over her head. When things went south, somebody didn’t want to be left holding the bag.
My phone buzzed with a call from an unknown number. I was always hesitant to answer those. I didn’t like talking to spammers.
After a few rings, I decided to answer it. My thumb swiped the screen, and I held the device to my ear. “Hello?”
A man asked, “Is this Deputy Wild?”
2
Jack parked at the curb in front of the Palm Haven estate. We hopped out of the light blue metallic Porsche 911 SC and strolled the walkway to the front porch. The home was a marvel of modern architecture with a mid-century flair. Large glass window walls and elegant stonework with a mix of earthy wood tones.
Palm Haven was an exclusive neighborhood full of custom homes. With a man-made white sand beach, it was the pinnacle of luxury. The yards were perfectly manicured. Towering palms swayed overhead. Each home had a unique design. This was no cookie-cutter neighborhood.
We walked past the Storm Purple Aston Martin Vantage in the circular drive.
I rang the video doorbell at the gate to the courtyard. It was full of lush foliage. A water wall trickled, providing a soothing soundtrack for the oasis.
A man’s voice crackled through the speaker a moment later—the man I had talked to on the phone. “Deputy Wild, thanks for coming.”
He buzzed us in, and we pushed through the gate. By the time we got to the front door, a dapper gentleman in an expensive suit waited for us. Strathmore Wellington was in his mid-50s with short, wavy dark hair with a touch of gray, a high forehead, narrow brown eyes, and thin lips that were slightly down-turned at the edges. He had a grim expression, but that was broken quickly with a smile upon greeting us. He extended his hand, and we shook.
I introduced him to JD.
“It’s a pleasure to meet both of you. Please come in.” Mr. Wellington stepped aside and motioned us into the vaulted foyer.
Florida sunshine spilled in through large transom windows. A magnificent, stylized chandelier hung from the ceiling.
Mr. Wellington escorted us across the foyer into the living room, which offered a stunning view of the infinity pool and the beach. Sapphire waves crashed against the shore. The sun glittered the water.
